


The Flap of a Butterfly's Wings

by Amelia041223



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Abuse, Akumatized Chat Noir, Angst, Chat Blanc - Freeform, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, F/M, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, I mean it, Poor Adrien, Rating May Change, You Have Been Warned, abandonment and trust issues, don't know what else to tag, love square?, more angst beyond this point, never written this fandom before, nino is a good friend, not quite sure how these ratings work anyway, sorry - Freeform, sorry if I failed, sure, thought I'd give it a try
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-11
Updated: 2018-07-09
Packaged: 2019-05-05 05:43:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 25,526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14610726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amelia041223/pseuds/Amelia041223
Summary: It wasn’t until several minutes later, when Chat Noir had been forced to dive in front of a pesky reporter, his body peppered with scissors sticking in various places he didn’t wish to contemplate, his body shivering uncontrollably, twitching sporadically under his weight, that the traitorous thought finally leaked through his mind, a groping, devastating, ensnaring toxicity.She’s not coming.Or, Adrien is forced to fight an akuma on his own, and follows the pesky butterfly to its home, with disastrous consequences.





	1. She'll Come

**Author's Note:**

> I just hope you enjoy reading this, even though it's probably really bad. Oh well. I tried.  
> (Sigh)
> 
> Eh, this is my first time writing this fandom and these characters anyway.

Chat Noir grit his teeth, the corner of his lips curling upward in a comfortable smirk. It was a look he knew would never be accepted on his civilian form, but, what were alter-egos for, if not to break free from the stifling constraints of ordinary life?

Aside from saving Paris, that is. 

Chat Noir felt the leather of his tail slap familiarly against his legs as he narrowly avoided another attack, his boots skidding on gravel. 

‘Alright, there’s no need to get  _ snippy,’  _ he taunted, relishing the abismal pun as it slipped unapologetically from his tongue. 

‘ _ Enough games. Give me your miraculous, Chat Noir,’  _ the akuma victim snarled, scissors flashing in their hands. Long, devilishly thin shards of metal, glinting dangerously in the light of the sun. Chat Noir couldn’t help the prickling knot of queasiness he felt cluster in the pit of his stomach at the sight of them. Hawk Moth was growing more dangerous with his akumas. Perhaps his impatientience was catching up with him, or he had managed to gain more control over his poor kwami. Whatever the reason, Chat Noir know had a homicidal hairdresser on his hands, the prospect of being jobless with an eviction notice in the mail having pushed him over the edge.

‘ _ There’s no Ladybug to save you now. Perhaps she’s given up on you?’ _

Chat Noir only scoffed at the words, but felt another wave of unease. He knew she would never let him down, never let the city down. She was perfect, she was everything, and she was certainly better than him in every way, with her courage, clear focus, and impeccable ability to wrack her brain for a resourceful plan, never failing to save the day in the nick of time. 

She would come. He was sure of it.

  


~

  


Marinette rammed her fists against the splintering wood of the door, hissing at the pain. 

‘Chloe, let me out!’ she cried, moving to kick the door, before staring at her soft pink flats, and thinking better of it. Chloe had always been a bit of a handful, but even Marinette hadn’t been expecting this one. She was usually all bark and no bite. She raked her fingers through her hair in annoyance. She had already recently defeated an akuma, Tikki exhausted, her purse sadly devoid of sustenance, or, more accurately, cookies.

She had to get out of here. What if there was another akuma attack, and she was stuck-

She felt a familiar buzzing, and she swiftly pried the slender phone from her purse, her heart giving a jarring stutter in her chest as she blinked at the akuma alert flashing across the screen. 

‘Chloe, please, open the door!’ she screamed, tugging at the handle with newfound vigour. This couldn’t get any worse, could it? ‘I know we’ve had our differences, but this is completely uncalled for-’

‘How can you say that?’ The blonde finally snapped, Marinette quickly ceasing her struggle to listen. Perhaps she could negotiate-

‘How can you pretend you’re the victim?’ Chloe snivelled, and Marinette recognized the snotty thickness in her throat with a jolt. Chloe Bourgeois had been crying. Instinct took over, and Marinette immediately hastened to diffuse the situation. Perhaps if she managed to gather enough information, she could coax Chloe to eventually open the door.

‘What’s this about Chloe? What did I do?’ she said in a softer tone, calling upon all the inner strength of Ladybug to mask her anger and irritation for her age-old rival. She had to be calm. She had to be understanding.

‘Like you care,’ Chloe snapped, ‘no, in fact, you don’t care, do you? How could you, when you plot to steal Adrikins from me?’

Marinette felt her heart lodge in her throat, her tongue suddenly too thick for her mouth.  _ What _ -?!

‘I heard you, talking to your loser reporter friend, about your  _ stupid _ crush. Well guess what, Marinette  _ Dupain-Cheng,  _ he will never, I repeat,  _ never _ love you, got that? He is so out of your league, it’s not even funny. In fact, no wait, it will be _ hilarious _ to watch your face when he rejects you-

Marinette felt her hands curl into fists, her nails biting crescent moons into her palm. As always, Chloe never failed to disappoint-

‘Marinette, we really need to go,’ Tikki whispered urgently from the mouth of her purse.

Marinette quickly drew in a breath, releasing the tension in her hands, pushing Chloe’s stream of insults to thrum as mere background noise. 

‘I know, Tikki, but I can’t transform, Chloe’s right outside!’ she said helplessly, eyes burning into the message blaring across her screen. Unlocking the phone, she quickly pulled up the Ladyblog, hoping her partner had at least arrived on the scene. She chewed her lip in agitation, swiftly tapping on the newest livestream. Of course Alya was already on the scene. 

She managed to breathe a short sigh of relief at the sight of her cocky partner, emerald cat-eyes glimmering in coy determination, before she was forced to suck in another breath as she watched him narrowly avoid a vicious onslaught of, were those  _ scissors? _

Marinette’s stomach immediately plummeted, her phone digging grooves into her sweat-slicked palms. Chat Noir was alone, and in serious danger. And she couldn’t do anything.

Because of Chloe.

‘Marinette…?’ Tikki’s gentle concern slowly pulled her back from her red haze of anger. She could only look down in desperation at her kwami, her miraculous suddenly powerless to help her.

‘Tikki,’ she breathed, voicing the words she dreaded would ever cross her lips.

‘I don’t know what to do.’ 

  


~

  


Chat Noir’s smile was quickly replaced with a small grimace, as he dodged another blade, the edge shearing a fine lock of golden hair. He could only hope she came soon.

‘ _ You’re nothing without her,’  _ the akuma rasped, taking another lunge. Chat Noir couldn’t find it in himself to disagree, but, shoving down  _ that  _ mess of thoughts threatening to consume his mind, he only smirked, deflecting another blow with his baton.

‘Ladybug and I are a team,’ he replied automatically, hissing as the akuma managed to nick the back of his neck. He didn’t think it was terribly serious at first, until he felt a sudden flaring sting, something wet trickling down his back, sticky against the leather of his suit. The second of distraction permitted the akuma to sneak in two more attacks, a burning slash across his forearm, and a curving gash on his thigh. He grunted, nearly falling to a knee, but forced himself into a graceless backflip, flailing on his landing, as he avoided another lunge. 

_ Where was that bug?  _

‘M’lady, I sure could use a little help,’ he called into the wind, wincing as the scissors cut into  his shoulder, the blades twisting across his back. He gasped, only just barely managing to dance away, angrily blinking back the tears threatening to spill from his eyes as the stinging pain overtook his focus. ‘I can’t do this without you,’ he murmured helplessly, stumbling, as another blade raked across his chest. The akuma advanced proudly, sensing his weakening state, his posture entirely relaxed. Chat Noir nearly growled, swallowing a scream. 

_ She’ll come. _

‘ _ Give up yet?’  _ It taunted almost lazily. Gathering every ounce of strength remaining to him, Chat Noir only bared his teeth, lunging forward, knocking the akuma off balancing with a swipe of his baton, clearly surprising the victim.

_ She’ll come _

‘We haven’t even gotten started, Edward Scissorhands,’ he quipped, hoping to disguise the pant in his voice, though aware it probably didn’t work. 

‘ _ Scissor _ fingers,  _ pathetic stray,’  _ the akuma snarled angrily, pivoting on his heel. Chat Noir only scoffed.

‘Cool the  _ sharp  _ attitude, maybe you should learn to  _ cut-loose  _ a little more. Let your  _ hair down.  _ I could  _ point  _ you in the direction of the nearest massage parlor-’

The akuma only howled in rage, Chat Noir managing to maintain his grin through another three cuts to his side, pleased with his handiwork.  

_ She’ll come. _

It wasn’t until several minutes later, when Chat Noir had been forced to dive in front of a pesky reporter, his body peppered with scissors sticking in various places he didn’t wish to contemplate, his body shivering uncontrollably, twitching sporadically under his weight, that the traitorous thought finally leaked through his mind, a groping, ensnaring toxicity.

_ She’s not coming. _

  


~

  


Marinette felt tears sting her eyes, trickling down her cheeks as she stared at the footage of her friend, her  _ partner,  _ slumped on the ground, bleeding from so many places, trembling though it was a hot afternoon. Catching the flesh of her lip between her teeth, she nearly bit through the chapped skin. It had all happened so fast, she realized, perhaps within the last hour she had spent trapped, attempting to reason with Chloe. Now, she could only sink helplessly to her knees, placing a hand weakly on the door to steady herself.

‘I’m sorry, Chloe,’ she whispered, barely aware the words were even passing her lips. ‘But Adrien isn’t anyone’s. Not even yours. I know you feel lonely, like everyone, including Adrien, has been stolen away from you, but…’ she felt her words catch in her throat, as she held back a sob. 

Useless. She was useless. She had let her partner down.

‘I’m sure he wants to be your friend, if only you’ll stop pushing him...away…and be the person he knows you can be...’ 

Slowly, ever so slowly, she felt the lock click out of place.

The handle turned.

  


~

  


Chat Noir held the tattered remains of an eviction letter in his clawed hands, the paper twisted and crumpled. He watched blankly as the dark wings of the butterfly fluttered innocently into the air.  _ Oh,  _ he thought vaguely,  _ I have to catch that. Somehow. _

Akumas could phase through anything, just like a kwami, he knew. How he would attempt to complete this task was, for the moment, beyond him, especially in his own weakened state, Plagg, he knew, working tirelessly to ebb the pain. But there was so much...blood… 

Clenching his teeth, he stared at the escaping akuma with hardened resolve. He didn’t know what his Lady deemed more important than saving Paris, or perhaps she had been held up in a devastating emergency, he couldn’t blame her, she was so much more responsible and professional than him…

No, he had to do this on his own. For Paris. For his Lady.

Chat Noir unhooked his baton from his belt, and, with one final agonizing groan of pain, he launched himself over the rooftops of Paris in the pursuit of a single flitting butterfly.

  


~

  


As Chat Noir followed the elusive insect from one spire to the next, the last thing he expected was to find himself scaling the wall of his own house.

The last thing he expected was to watch as Hawk Moth’s lithe form slowly turned to meet him, grim sneer carefully set in place, as the all too familiar cold blue gaze pierced his soul.

The last thing he expected was to discover his father was the supervillain he had been fighting for the past year and a half. The infamous menace of Paris.

Chat Noir couldn’t feel anything anymore, the weeping pain of his wounds only seeping into the deep inconsequential recesses of his mind. Lost.

Chat Noir vaguely felt himself slide to the floor, frowning in slight confusion as the world appeared to bend and distort in glistening pools. He felt something wet dribbling down his chin.

He could only watch, helpless, as the delicate form of the butterfly drew ever nearer, drifting lazily across the room, until it-

…

  
  



	2. Do We Have a Deal?

Hawk Moth stared, unblinking at the boy, his cane clenched tightly between gloved fingers. He watched as the superhero reminiscent of a black cat, dressed in familiar tight leather, slumped to his knees, large, emerald eyes slipping into a contorted mask of...No, not terror, not anger... 

As tears gathered in glistening pools, running in uncontrollable rivers down the boy’s cheeks, seeping into the dark cracks and folds of his mask, Hawk Moth only saw...helplessness. The fight in him had dissipated, fleeing into the shadows, leaving only a broken, and trembling teenager. He nearly scoffed in disgust. What a pathetic-

He hadn’t entirely meant for the akuma to infiltrate the boy, in fact, he didn’t even know if such a thing was possible. No, he had lost patience, and had only thought of guiding the boy to his lair, pleased he was finally separated from Ladybug, and knowing he was the only partner stupid enough to so willingly fall into his grasp without so much as a spark of a plan. He thought he could have easily overpowered the boy with his butterflies, hopefully force him to call upon his cataclysmic powers, stall for time, and tear the miraculous from the hero’s civilian form. 

Apparently none of that was necessary. 

Hawk Moth felt the overpowering sense of anguish hit the forefront of his mind as the butterfly chose to bury itself comfortably in its new host. It had been difficult for the akuma to find a suitable habitat on the boy, but once it did, Hawk Moth could feel, coursing thickly through his veins in a bubbling mixture of euphoria and delicious misery, how comfortable, and truly  _ settled  _ the akuma became in its new home. He hadn’t truly experienced anything as concrete and undeniable as this before, and he only allowed it to unnerve him for only a fraction of a moment, before he let the corner of his lip curl in triumph. 

He had Chat Noir in the palm of his hand. He could feel, for perhaps only a breath of time, the boy squirm in his clutch, guilt and unwillingness fighting for air on the surface, but Hawk Moth only revelled in the resistance, pausing for a moment, before leaning into his new victim, crushing the boy’s spirit and flicker of hope, such a delicate thing, in one swooping blow. He filled his new akuma with his own poisoned cocktail of anger and loathing he carried with him always, nestled in a grey, splintered crook of his heart. Unexpectedly, the boy still struggled, and Hawk Moth watched as he cried out, throat coarse and raw, his hands buried in his shaggy, golden locks, clamping over his ears. He scrabbled on the ground, and Hawk Moth watched as his blood smeared across the floor of his lair. He could feel a hint of that too, the dullness of pain fighting for a place in the boy’s consciousness. 

However, something about him felt...familiar…

No.

He wouldn’t go there. He didn’t want to know. It would make everything easier if he didn’t. Perhaps a part of him had figured it out, but…

No.

Better a faceless boy he could use, one he didn’t know, than…

Shoving his doubts aside, Hawk Moth closed his eyes, smirked, and felt as every particle in his mind ensnared his fresh victim, dark tendrils trapping the boy’s mind, pushing, and flicking, beating it into submission.  _ You are mine. _

He would win this fight.

He had to.

Chat Noir faught harder than Hawk Moth thought he would, to his surprise. No matter, though, perhaps it was more amusing this time. He would have been disappointed if taking down one of Paris’  _ superheroes  _ was so laughably easy. 

He should have thought of this two years ago, if Nooroo hadn’t insisted those with a miraculous couldn’t be akumatized…

He would deal with his deceptively disobedient kwami later.

‘ _ Chat Noir, why do you resist so?’ _ He sneered as he pushed his voice into the boy’s head. Chat Noir only hissed, pushing the heel of his hand into the ground, claws scraping against concrete. ‘ _ What should I call you?’  _ Hawk Moth mused. Oh, this was a beautiful opportunity, he couldn’t let this one slide. Of course, a part of him knew it was a tad cliché, but Hawk Moth had long since stopped caring.

‘ _ I shall call you Chat Blanc, your delightfully malicious counterpart. Does that sound good to you?’ _

Finally, Hawk Moth could feel the boy slipping, his grasp on his control fading as he thrashed in the enveloping darkness. 

‘Let...me...go…’ Chat Noir mumbled miserably, and Hawk Moth grinned as he felt the utter guilt and  _ shame  _ from the boy peel from his mind in waves. 

‘ _ You’ve let down your Ladybug, haven’t you, Chat Blanc? Oh, but didn’t she let you down? Didn’t she leave you to me?’  _ Hawk Moth smiled as Chat Noir curled in on himself, whimpering. ‘ _ No, that’s not it, is it? You’re ashamed, aren’t you? Ladybug could always fight without you. She’s never needed you,’  _ Hawk Moth spat, ‘ _ nobody needs you, do they? The one day Ladybug places her trust in you, for you to finish the job, and you can’t even manage it, how pathetic, Chat Blanc.’ _

‘My...name...is Chat...Noir…’ the boy panted fiercely, and Hawk Moth could only grin as he felt the boy’s mind surge in one last, heroic burst of power. Hawk Moth allowed the small break in control, retracting just the slightest bit, loosening his hold. He had to admit, the boy was stronger than he appeared. 

But not strong enough.

‘ _ She won’t even notice when you’re gone. No one will. No one will  _ care,  _ isn’t that right?’ _

He felt the boy’s grip slip.

‘ _ I could change that, Chat Blanc, I could- _

‘Stop it!’

‘ _ I could make you the villain she would never forget. Oh, I think I will, whether you want it or not. I could give you Ladybug on a silver platter, make her see you for who you truly are. I could make her yours.’ _

‘No!’

_ ‘You’re so lonely, aren’t you?’  _ He whispered gently, towering over Chat Noir’s quivering form, ‘ _ all you really want is...love, isn’t it? Acceptance? Trust?’ _

Chat Noir shrank away, shaking his head.

_ ‘Ah, but it is. I can feel it. A lonely, gaping hole stretching inside you, burning, clamouring to be filled. If you get me what I want, I can help you. I can give you what you  _ crave _.’  _

Then he felt it. The snap, the broken falter. Chat Noir’s grip slid, scrambling on ice. The briefest breath of hesitation. But it was enough. Hawk Moth smiled. He could have, of course, ended this game a little earlier, if he had so choosed, but this had certainly been more informative. 

Unbeknownst to Hawk Moth, the words of a cold, distant father carried more crushing weight than the mere promise of a supervillain. 

And Chat Noir couldn’t hold on.

Hawk Moth pounced, surging through his mind, grinning as he finally,  _ finally,  _ swept over the boy, burying his mind in the bottomless sea of black. Lost. 

‘ _ Now, Chat Blanc, in return for Ladybug’s Miraculous, do we have a deal?’ _

Chat Noir’s scream was swallowed in a cloud of deep violet, a poisonous, bubbling fog. 

Another breath, and Chat Blanc, piercing, lilac eyes glowing behind the crisp purity of a white mask greeted him, a twisted smirk sliding across his face. 

‘Yes, Hawk Moth.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this was kind of short, but don't worry, the next one will be longer, and hopefully out sooner. Thanks for reading!
> 
> Btw, this will gradually have more of a plot, don't worry, I just have to get there. Please bear with me.


	3. I Promise

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, here's a new chapter, not too late, am I? Um, oops...All well, I don't really have a solid schedule or anything for this, I kind of just write it when I feel in the mood, but, have no fear! I have finally figured out a long term plot for this, and I intend to write it, dammit!  
> Hem. Pardon my french.  
> Anyway, I hope this is okay, and thanks for reading!

Marinette’s flats slapped against concrete, as she apologized under her breath, Tikki rattling around in her purse, attempting to stuff a cookie in her mouth. Her parents had only managed to stare at their daughter in surprise, as she had exploded into the bakery, rushed to the back of the store, retrieved three leftover chocolate chip cookies, sneaked a peck on her mother’s cheek, and proceeded to bolt out the door.

‘I love you, bye!’ She threw over her shoulder, guilty at her rushed dismissal. She would attempt to explain her late arrival and hasty exit later. Now, she had to find Chat, and hopefully figure out a way to find the akuma, and cleanse the city. She prayed quietly that her restoration spell would be enough to fix his wounds… 

The sight of her slumped, bleeding partner shaking in the street, blades poking from leather, flashed jarringly through her mind, and she felt a wave of nausea hit her. She swallowed thickly, and pressed on, her heart hammering incessantly in her chest, veins pulsing in her ears. She had to find him, and fast. 

Ducking into an alley, Marinette swiftly unclasped her purse. 

‘Are you ready, Tikki?’ She whispered, hopeful eyes darting across her kwami. Tikki stuffed the last corner of her cookie in her mouth, and smiled wanly.

‘Ready to go, Marinette,’ she said softly, patting the back of her chosen’s hand comfortingly. ‘I’m sure you’ll be able to save him,’ she encouraged. Marinette gazed fondly at her kwami. She could only hope she was right.

‘Alright, Tikki, Spots On!’ She cried, steely determination laced in her declaration. 

The red-clad hero flung her yo-yo into the air, latching onto a nearby rooftop, before swinging away.

She would find him.

She would come for him.

~

Ladybug sighed in frustration, yo-you smacking against the ground as she tapped her foot in agitation. Where was that cat? Where was the akuma? She quickly spotted a familiar over-involved teenage reporter waving enthusiastically from the opening of an alley, phone in hand. Ladybug couldn’t suppress the small smile as it tugged at the corners of her lips, but, as she neared, she was able to distinguish the twisted pained grimace on her friend’s face, her brow furrowed in uncharacteristic unease. Ladybug swallowed dryly. 

‘Alya?’ She said softly, her fingers digging into her yo-yo, restless. Alya’s expression only grew more grim.

‘Ladybug, Chat Noir freed the akuma, but then he chased after it. I know I probably can’t ask you where you were, but...he can’t capture akumas by himself.’ She sighed, glancing apprehensively at her idol. ‘He was hurt pretty bad, and...I couldn’t help him…’

Ladybug grimaced, aware that of  _ course _ her friend would feel guilt over not being able to have helped as Rena Rouge. She used a Miraculous, but never had access to it. She never got to choose when to assist in a fight. Ladybug immediately reached for Alya’s shoulder, determined to not allow her friend to feel any form of guilt. This was her doing. If she had been able to calm Chloe down sooner, or had remembered to pack more cookies…

‘It’s not your fault, Alya. I wasn’t there, so I couldn’t give you the chance to help him. I’m sorry.’

A sudden glimmer of hope flashed in her friend’s eyes, and Ladybug almost relaxed at the familiarity of the expression.

‘But you’ll be able to fix him, right?’ She said earnestly, ‘once you find the akuma, you’ll be able to call a lucky charm, or something? Use your cleansing power? Everything will go back to normal?’

Ladybug didn’t want to voice her own doubts, preferring to remain confident. She could only hope Tikki’s magic would be enough, but she hadn’t ever really had to cure physical wounds before. It couldn’t be much harder than repairing the Eiffel Tower, though, right?

‘Of course, Alya, don’t worry,’ Ladybug assured, retracting her hand, and unhooking her yo-yo once more. ‘Now I just have to find Chat Noir before the butterfly decides to multiply.’ She moved to leave, when she felt Alya’s hand on her arm. 

‘Ladybug, can I help, in any way? I just want him to be okay…’ the reporter asked quietly, as if she knew the answer. Ladybug didn’t want to disappoint her, but Master Fu held the Fox Miraculous. She didn’t exactly have time to retrieve it, and if the akuma started multiplying, she couldn’t let Alya get hurt. Ladybug shook her head apologetically.

‘Sorry, I can’t put you in danger, but I appreciate the offer.’ Ladybug cringed inwardly at the look of disappointment on her friend’s face. ‘Don’t worry, though, I’m sure I’ll be able to find him, and put everything back to normal. Maybe Rena Rouge will be willing to join us for another adventure?’ 

Alya’s signature mischievous smirk quickly slid into place, and Ladybug felt herself relax. Perhaps it was a little forced, but Ladybug was confident she’d be able to bounce back.

‘She might,’ she said slyly, ‘if you ask really nicely.’ She winked, and Ladybug stifled a chuckle. 

‘I look forward to it. Bug out!’ Ladybug hastily bid her friend goodbye, and swung over the city in search of a particular wounded cat.

~

Ladybug threw her hands up in frustration. How was she supposed to help him if he didn’t answer her calls? She couldn’t even find him on the tracking system, it was almost as if he had simply disappeared. Perhaps he was in the midst of recharging his kwami, but, honestly she didn’t think it should take this long, especially with a task unfinished!

‘Chat, where are you?’ she muttered under her breath, as she left another voicemail. Honestly, they had to somehow develop a better communication system. Maybe they could get those anonymous disposable phones that seemed to be frequently used in crime shows when the caller didn’t want to be traced…

Or walkie-talkies.

An abrupt clang at the end of the alley suddenly pulled her from her thoughts. She swiftly turned, yo-yo a spinning, red blur in her grasp. She squinted, peering into the darkness. Was someone...there…? 

Ladybug’s breath caught in her throat.

Twin purple orbs glowed in the shadows, hard, impossibly cold, but perhaps, familiar…? Every nerve in Ladybug’s body burned and twisted in protest, willing her to move, to  _ run.  _ She grit her teeth, and hesitantly pushed a foot forward. 

‘Who...who’s there?’ She called out, ‘come on, out where I can see you.’ 

A low hiss sliced through the shadows, tickling her ears, a jagged blade running thinly down her spine. She shuddered at the sound, as it quickly ended in a rumbling growl. Had an animal from the zoo escaped again? Was it an akuma? She squinted into the darkness.

‘Who are-’

Before she could react, the figure pounced, barrelling into her at the mouth of the alley, pushing them both tumbling into the street. She groaned as she felt her head connect with hard asphalt, and struggled to her feet, yo-yo at the ready. She glanced around angrily, dimly annoyed she hadn’t been able to defend herself in time. Where was that-

‘You never came for me.’ The voice was quiet, a crackling murmur, laced with a silver edge. Ladybug turned sharply on her heel. 

Her breath hitched, her heart ramming too loudly against her ribs, the sound echoing in her head. A note of familiarity had rung true in that voice, and she knew, a part of her reeling with clear, unwanted certainty, who it belonged to…

White.

Too much white. It was pale and ghostly, the sickly skin of a paling corpse, the stiff, blinding sheets of a hospital bed. It wasn’t the comforting warmth of light, or the sparkling beauty of snow. On him, it only looked like the skeletal hands of death. Peeling, rotten plaster.

She looked into unfamiliar eyes, threaded with an animalistic hunger she never thought she’d see on him. A glimmer of sadistic pleasure glinted in the lilt of a fractured smile, pulled from pieces that didn’t quite fit together, crammed on his face as though it had been forced into place. The purple of his eyes shimmered, the flap of a dark butterfly’s wings, thin, entwining veins. 

Ladybug felt the world tilt, her muscles tighten, pushing into her chest. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t seem to get her lungs to expand, they had simply collapsed against her heart, heavy. She vaguely felt as her heel stumbled backwards, scraping the ground beneath her. 

‘You never came,’ Chat Noir continued, the smallest wilt in his ears, ‘and I finally got to realize how truly useless I was. Pathetic,’ he hissed the word, disgusted, ‘I was never enough for you. I was so much less than you, and you knew it.’ His contorted grin widened. ‘But he found me. And he made me so much more.’ 

Ladybug felt a numbing sting in her eyes, as something wet slid down her cheek. She blinked, her vision misted, blurred. She watched as the shining outline of a butterfly framed her partner’s face, and Chat’s eyes hardened. He only nodded to a conversation she wasn’t a part of, and fixed her with a cruel smirk. Wrong. All wrong. This wasn’t her friend, her partner.

Her  _ chaton. _

It couldn’t be.

‘Am I enough for you now?’ He said slowly, before starting forward, his eyes suddenly alight with sinister amusement. ‘You know this dance by heart. You know what I need, m’lad-’

‘No!’ The scream tore from her throat before she even realized she could breathe again, before she had figured out how to untangle her tongue. No.  _ He _ didn’t get to call her that. 

‘You’re not him,’ she said firmly, more to herself than him. She had to believe it. He had to know she would not be fighting her partner, because she knew better. Chat cocked a brow, unfazed. 

‘Are you so sure about that?’ He said darkly, raising a clawed hand. They were so much longer, more cruelly  _ imposing,  _ curving wickedly from his fingers. They weren’t  _ his _ hands. This monster wore his face. That was all. 

Ladybug wouldn’t be fighting her partner. She would be saving him. Like she had so many times before. This shouldn’t be any different.

_ But it was. _

She shook her head, shoving the thought from her mind. Her grip tensed on her yo-yo.

‘Quite,’ she stated, ‘and if you think I’m going to just hand them over, you’ve got another thing coming.’ 

He snarled, and she leapt out of the way of his outstretched claws, deflecting his twirling baton. He was quick, and merciless. She never truly realized how agile and powerful he really could be, when he wasn’t distracted. Blinded by...her.

She swallowed the lump in her throat, and flung her yo-yo at her former partner, finally managing to hit him between the eyes. He bared his teeth at her, and countered with a glancing blow from his baton on her elbow. She gasped, and flipped backwards, catching her yo-yo on a telephone pole, and swinging out of his reach. 

She had to find out where his akuma was, and fast. It was difficult; there weren’t any obvious objects on him, except for his baton. She decided to try that first, before anything. If she was wrong, at least he would be down a weapon. 

‘Tell me, Chat Noir, why were you akumatized? What happened?’ She swung from the telephone pole, aiming a kick at his head, but missing. 

‘My name is Chat Blanc,’ he snapped, lunging for her waist with his outstretched baton.  _ Don’t overextend yourself, chaton.  _ She smirked, and, as she neared him a second time, her string winding around the pole, she quickly twisted her grip to solely her right hand, before kicking his baton from his fingers, snatching it from the air in her left fist. Finding refuge on a nearby roof, she stared down at him triumphantly.

She felt a small stutter in her chest when he appeared hauntingly  _ calm _ . She swung the metal stick over her head, smashing it over the gutter, a crack running through-

She groaned. No akuma. 

She threw the baton to the side, and narrowed her eyes. Chat Noir-  _ no, Blanc. He’s not Chat Noir right now-  _ merely shrugged, feigning a look of helplessness.

‘Is this because I didn’t show up? I’m sorry, Chat, I really am, and I know there’s nothing-’

‘Contrary to what you might think, m’lady, but not everything is about you,’ Chat Blanc hissed, his pupils slender slits. Ladybug frowned. If it wasn’t her, then what...?

‘I only want to help you, Chat,’ she said sadly, with a hint of exasperation. ‘I wish you would let me.’

Chat’s head cocked to the side. She moaned inwardly at the familiarity of the gesture.

‘You didn’t care enough about me before. What changed?’ He said the statement casually, as if with genuine curiosity. Ladybug felt a sudden sparking flare of anger. 

‘Of course I’ve always cared about you, you stupid cat!’ She snapped, diving from the rooftop, her yo-yo hooking in the gutter behind her. Before he could move, she slammed her feet into his chest, knocking him backwards. He fell, sprawled in the street, his tail flicking limply at his side. Ladybug frowned. She couldn’t have hurt him that much, could she?

‘You know, this would go along a lot faster if you just told me where the akuma was,’ she leapt beside him, ensnaring his legs with her yo-yo, as he struggled to stand. He collapsed, caught off balance, and he swiped at her. She moved deftly out of the way, before kicking his arm, pinning it under her heel. ‘Come on, chaton, I know you can…’ She faltered.

Then she looked at him. 

Her eyes widened. She watched as a small tear escaped from the sea of purple, trailing down his mask, dark against white. For a moment, those eyes were... _ his.  _

‘Please, it hurts,’ he gasped, ‘I’m sorry, I’m sorry, please make it stop...Plagg, help me, please…’ He whimpered, and their gazes locked. Her heart lodged itself in her throat, as tears gathered in his eyes, reflecting the light of the sun. His right arm was shaking, she realized, trembling as it slowly rose from the ground, claws long and cruel. He seemed to be trying to force it back down, his wrist occasionally slapping on the pavement.

She looked down, and felt as though her breath had been torn from her body.

Blood. Where had it come from? Dark red stains bloomed from under his suit, as though bleeding through the fabric. They gathered under her foot, on his chest, on his legs. Slowly, she managed to understand. 

And it sickened her.

‘He made you fight while you’re still injured?!’ Ladybug shrieked, not caring, in that moment, if the boy she had pinned was her partner or not. She supposed she should have realized sooner; how could Hawk Moth’s akumatization heal injuries? The anger surged, and she winced, as she noticed she had only been grinding Chat’s arm harder into the ground. 

‘Lady...bug…’ Chat panted, his eyes wide, and desperate, as he gasped for breath, his arm ever approaching her. ‘Please, I...don’t...want to...hurt you, please…’ He panted, and she stared. Was that...Chat Noir talking to her? He had managed to fight the akuma himself? How was this even possible? She didn’t move, frozen in place, as Chat only grew more distressed. His lips formed words, and she craned her neck to hear. Then the butterfly traced Chat’s face, and his eyes widened in fear. His body writhed beneath her, and he cried out in pain, his eyes squeezing shut. Her heart ached for her partner, feeling as though it had been ripped from her chest and lain out in the street to bleed. She didn’t know what to do, how to help him-

‘Cat...cat…’ He stammered weakly, shaking his head all the while. He gave her one last, long look, filled with, was it regret? Guilt? Shame? Hopelessness? Helplessness? ‘I...can’t…I’m sorry...’ His eyes snapped shut, and his body stiffened. 

The next word she heard spill from his mouth wasn’t his own. No, it was too rough, too flat, too cold.

‘Cataclysm!’ Chat Blanc screamed, his arm racing in a swift arc towards her. She squealed, and leapt out of the way just as she nearly felt his claws brush her cheek. She stumbled backwards in shock, her yo-yo whipping into her hands. 

She had nearly...he had almost…

As she watched her partner snap to his feet with almost surgical precision, his body moving against the pain she knew he must be in, she vowed she would  _ find  _ Hawk Moth, whoever this evil, slave-driving adult was, and  _ give him hell. _

The fight wore on, his claws always too dangerously close, as she continually dodged his attacks, though she noticed when she began to tire. Without Chat as her partner to distract the akuma and give her time, she didn’t have the chance to even think about unleashing her Lucky Charm. He barely even gave her time to breathe. They were too evenly matched, she conceded begrudgingly. 

It wasn’t until she managed to trick him into dispensing his Cataclysm into a nearby car, that she was finally allowed an opening.

This was her last chance, her only remaining window of opportunity. If he had to recharge, she didn’t know when she would be able to see him again. Would Hawk Moth keep him? What would happen to her partner? 

No. She had to be right this time, and, a large part of her really thought she was. After all, where else could the akuma be?

As his claws buried themselves in the metal of the door she had been crouched in front of mere minutes before, he struggled to turn, but he was too slow this time. Ladybug’s hand swiftly slipped over his arm, curling around the bell at his neck. She yanked on it hard, nearly pushing Chat into the car, before it finally gave way in her palm. 

Muttering a silent prayer, she took one last look at her poor, abused chaton, before throwing the bell on the ground, crushing it under her foot.

She waited.

This had to be it.

She gingerly removed her foot from the mess of bent metal.

A low rumble of laughter reached her ears, a twisted, foreign sound. She watched, horrified, as her former partner wrenched his hand from the car, leaving deep grooves. 

‘Now you know what it’s like to be alone, to lose,’ he snorted, holding his ribs. He soon recovered, straightening, before throwing her a lopsided smirk. ‘I can’t wait to see more of you, M’lady, I know we’ll have the best of times, although I do know how much you  _ hate  _ losing.’ He sneered at her, his grin that of a petulant child. He sighed, rolling his shoulders, before taking a step to the left. ‘Let’s do this again sometime, ‘k?’ He spat, smiling as she only stared at him. Ladybug watched him leap across the street, ducking into the mouth of an alley. She nearly let him go, her body empty, and numb.

But, somehow, a part of her managed to find her voice. If only for a moment.

‘I haven’t lost yet,’ she called after him, causing him to pause, if only briefly. She felt her hands clench into fists at her sides, her knees locking as she glared at him with a strength she didn’t know she still possessed. ‘And I won’t. I promise.’ She drew a breath. ‘I’ll save you.’

Her heart gave another lurch as he only scoffed at her, turning his back, his white and red frame disappearing under the blushing light of the fading sun.

Slowly, she felt herself sink to her knees, palms pressing into the ground. 

She bit back a sob, clenching her teeth. 

‘I promise,  _ mon chaton _ ,’ she whispered, the words breaking on her tongue.

The world spun.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thanks for reading!


	4. Broken Butterflies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, how are these updates so close together? What?!  
> Anyway, I know this one is kind of long, sorry if you find it boring, or something, but, eh, I was too lazy to edit, or break it up, and wanted to just get this all out.   
> That said, I might not update again for a while, but I will try! (Puts on fierce expression.) Also, please don't expect future chapters to be this long.  
> Anyway, I hope this chapter is okay, and, as always, thanks for reading!

Adrien groaned, the sound rumbling deep in his stomach. He shuddered, his limbs twitching underneath him, and his breath hitched painfully in his chest. He couldn’t breathe, he realized dimly, his muscles filled with cement, pressing him into the floor. He tried to snatch a lungful of air, but a sudden burning sting flared in his chest, his back, arms, and legs, the back of his neck throbbing dully. It hurt to exhale, and he could feel his heart twist in panic, as he started gulping, and panting, every movement accompanied with pain. 

_ What was happening to him? _

Adrien felt bile rise in his throat, and he coughed, heaving dryly on the pavement, crying out as the pain only reared in agitation. His vision blurred, and his palms dug into the ground.

‘P-Plagg,’ he wheezed, feeling a sticky wetness down his back and neck, pasting his shirt to his chest and arms. ‘Plagg-g, what…’ He choked on the words, trembling, and squeezed his eyes shut, his head swimming, and pounding…

‘Kid? Adrien? Come on, you can get up, you’ll be fine…’ The voice sounded familiar, but it was too alarmed, and concerned to be his grumpy kwami, wasn’t it? His thoughts moved too sluggishly in Adrien’s brain for him to properly comprehend, and he felt the darkness behind his eyes beginning to expand, a gaping, stretching mouth, swallowing him…

‘Adrien?’

...

~

‘ _ Adrien _ ?’

The words were spoken from the churning depths of the ocean, echoing faintly in Adrien’s sensitive skull. He moaned, wanting to return to the shadows, the numbness of the enveloping darkness. He didn’t want the harsh sting of the light shoved in his eye, and he hissed through his teeth, his body jarring, and trembling, shooting waves of pain along his skin. Adrien couldn’t hold back the strangled whimper from his chest, and he blearily blinked back the fog clouding his vision, struggling for anything solid, anything real... 

‘ _ What do you think you’re doing?’  _ A voice, female, young, he decided. He knew it, somehow…

‘ _ What? This is what they do in the movies, right?’ _

_ ‘Yeah, but you don’t know what you’re looking for. Just get that light out of his face.’ _

_ ‘Okay, jeez…’ _

Adrien slowly attempted to twist his head, the room gradually taking shape, the fuzzy corners of the room sharpening.

He felt sick, he realized, and cold, the skin of his chest bare to a tingling draft, his back stinging, and pressing into a towel. He felt a suffocating dryness in his throat, and he experimentally ran his tongue along his mouth. A cough bubbled up from his chest, and he wheezed as the violent action tore through his entire body. Ugh, why did everything hurt? Where was he?

‘Shh, Nino, look, he’s awake!’

The voices were clear now, clanging loudly in his ears, and Adrien flinched at the sound, curling away from it. A pair of slender hands quickly patted him on the shoulders, grounding him, and he stared, terminally confused, into two large sets of concerned golden eyes, one pair slightly paler than the other. Adrien blinked, trying to pull the fragmented thoughts of his brain into a cohesive message. 

‘Adrien, can you hear me? You’re okay now, you’re safe. We found you in an alley, can you tell us what happened?’ 

Gradually, understanding managed to dawn in his muddled brain, and he relaxed. Oh, Alya was asking him a question. One he didn’t entirely understand. Nino stood at his other side, his stare impossibly wide. Adrien attempted to speak, to reassure his friends, but all that came out was another fit of coughing. He gasped as his body shook with the effort, tears gathering in his eyes as he felt waves of pain, and Alya quickly removed her hands, returning moments later with a cup of water and a straw. She instructed Nino to get a few pillows, and Adrien, ashamed at his vulnerable state, couldn’t stifle his moans as Nino gently lifted him by the shoulders, propping him up on his newfound bedding. 

Alya poked the straw past his lips, and commanded him to drink. Slightly intimidated, Adrien immediately obliged, and he choked lightly as the refreshing coolness of the liquid as it spread through his body, trickling down his throat, burning slightly. He tried once more at speech, licking his splintered  lips. 

‘What...what happened?’ He managed slowly, his voice foreign to his ears, withered, and crackly. 

‘Uh, we were kind of hoping you could tell us,’ Alya said, glancing at him worriedly. Adrien felt a pang of guilt. He didn’t want his friends to have to be concerned, to have to go out of their way to…

‘I’m...sorry,’ he managed, the world methodically sliding into focus. Alya frowned. 

‘Sorry? What for? What did you do?’ She asked suspiciously. Nino gently elbowed her.

‘Hey, lay off, I’m sure he didn’t do anything, um, right, Adrien?’ His gaze shifted to his best friend uneasily. 

Slowly, painfully slowly, Adrien’s mind decided to kick into gear, vague memories sifting through his brain, slapping him on the nose. Oh, there had been an akuma attack, right... _ Scissors _ , he remembered lots of scissors, he was alone, yeah, and Ladybug... _ no, Ladybug never came _ , he realized with a jolt. He had freed the akuma himself, there was a reporter, and pain,  _ lots of it _ ...and a butterfly, a dark, flitting butterfly, flying away. He had to catch it, he knew, but how? _ Oh no, did Ladybug manage to trap it before it multiplied? Where was it now? _

Panic surged in his chest, and Adrien attempted to struggle from his, what was he on, a table? His head protested at the movement, and Nino hastily pushed Adrien back down. Not that Adrien really looked like he would have been able to get up anyway. 

‘D-did L-Ladybug get the akuma?’ He managed, his fist trapping Nino’s wrist. Nino only stared at him, raising a brow. ‘Uh, maybe? I don’t know, but dude, that shouldn’t be your main concern right now.’ He said as though speaking to the mentally handicapped. He gently patted Adrien’s hand, and Adrien speedily withdrew, apologizing. Nino held up a hand.

‘No, dude, stop with the apologies already. Just tell us what happened, okay?’ He said softly, a pained look in his eyes.  _ Was he causing that? _ Adrien winced, his mind slipping into overdrive. 

‘Uh…’ He racked his brain, but came up frustratingly empty. The last thing he remembered was chasing after an akuma, determined to not allow it to escape, but not quite knowing what he’d be able to do with it. It frightened him, not knowing.  _ Had something else happened? What if he had hurt his lady? What if- _

‘Okay, okay, Adrien, come down, just breathe, okay?’ Nino’s voice was quiet, and nervous, but soothing, and Adrien forced himself to relax, his breath rattling in his throat, heaving. 

‘Where, um, where am I?’ He managed eventually, once he managed to regain some semblance of control over his breathing. The cool metal on his ring finger was suddenly very comforting, and he sighed in relief. He hoped Plagg was okay. Where would he be able to get his kwami cheese, though?

‘Don’t worry, dude, we’re in Alya’s bedroom. We would have brought you to Marinette’s, but she’s sick, so we didn’t feel like, um, bothering her, you know?’ Nino assured. 

‘We  _ would  _ have taken you to the hospital, like sensible human beings, but Nino-’

‘ _ No hospital _ !’ Adrien sputtered the words in his haste, surprising everyone, including himself, at his outburst. He coughed weakly. ‘S-sorry, um, n-no hospital, please,’ he tried again, unable to disguise the plead in his voice. Alya raised her brow.

‘Uh, Adrien? I’m no doctor, but you’ve got, like, serious cuts and scrapes, you look like a giant decided to use you as a pincushion, not to mention the bruises. I think one of you ribs is broken-’

She hesitantly extracted a finger, prodding at a spot on his chest, and Adrien jerked away, crying out. She hastily withdrew, looking guilty. Nino glared at her.

‘What the hell did you do that for?’ He demanded. 

‘Well, I had to gauge the pain, see if it was broken, or not-’

‘ _ Alya! _ ’

‘What? He shouldn’t even be here, he should be in a hospital!’

Adrien panicked at her words again, desperately grabbing at her shirt to gain her attention. It worked.

‘Please,’ he croaked, ‘no hospital. If my dad finds out. H-he’ll kill me.’ Alya looked stunned for a moment, before rolling her eyes.

‘Okay, I know your dad is “evil” and all, but I think even he would understand-’ 

Adrien vehemently shook his head. Oh, this wasn’t good, this  _ wasn’t good.  _ He had to make her understand. All those other times he had recklessly tossed himself into danger, as the expendable distraction he was, or to save Ladybug from a hit, he had managed to hide the wounds from his dad, cleaning little cuts and scrapes in his bathroom, icing bruises, and usually, Plagg helped remarkably well with the healing process when Adrien stayed in the suit for a little longer, being sure to stock up on more camembert. Ladybug’s miraculous cure usually lended a helping hand as well, but this time…

No, this was worse, much worse. He didn’t even remember being in as much pain in the moment as he was now. 

‘Please, Alya, you don’t know what he’s like. I-he found a bruise on my face once, when I accidentally fell down the stairs, and it set his shoots back for  _ days.  _ He was-he was  _ so angry _ …’

Adrien remembered that day vividly. He had, in fact, fallen down the stairs, back before he was Chat Noir, or went to school. He was still trapped in his house, with no social life to speak of. Mother had just disappeared not a few months previous, her absence a great, hollow void in the house. He had just finished another plea to attend public school, been dismissed for what felt like the hundredth time, and couldn’t see where all the steps were, as his vision was too clouded, his eyes burning. He was at the top of the stairs, climbing to his room, but, his shoes were too new, the soles not quite broken in, and his foot slipped out from under him. He pitched forward, cracking his cheekbone on the corner of a step as he slid down.

He remembered the feeling of his father’s bony fingers pinching into his chin, twisting his head to inspect the bruise, his eyes narrowed, and flaring with disapproval and anger. 

‘How could you have been so careless?’ He hissed, releasing his grip, his hands clenching into fists behind his back. His father spent the next half hour spitting angrily in Adrien’s face, his insults deep, and painful. Once the verbal lashing was done, Adrien was, of course, confined to his room, this time with the Gorilla standing in front of a locked door, and every electronic he possessed disabled for the next month. Any contact he had with the outside world had been snatched away from him in one, disarming swipe, with only his father’s anger to occupy his thoughts. All for a bruise.

No, he couldn’t risk losing school, losing his friends, being shut in that room…

He couldn’t risk his father’s anger...

He didn’t realize how wet his face had gotten, until he felt something pressing into his cheeks. He blinked, and realized, with a jolt, that Nino was awkwardly attempting to dry his tears. The gesture was so kind, and  _ thoughtful _ , and  _ unfamiliar,  _ Adrien just crumpled, overwhelmed. The sobs wracked painfully across his body, and his chest protested at the movement, but he couldn’t stop, though he felt so horribly  _ guilty  _ to be passing all of this onto his friends, his  _ amazing  _ friends, oh, god, how would he be able to make this up to them?

He didn’t know he had been apologizing, until Alya roughly clamped a hand over his mouth, her expression hard, but a little queasy, her brow scrunched.

‘Adrien, stop apologizing, we’re here for you, okay? We’re not going anywhere, and we are  _ perfectly  _ happy to help you, okay? Get that through your thick skull, Agreste,’ she said, chuckling lightly, her expression softening. 

‘S-sorry-’ he began unthinkingly.

‘Ah?’ Alya held up a warning finger.

‘Uh, thank you guys for going through all this trouble for me, I’m really grateful, and I don’t know how I’ll be able to make it up to you,’ he quickly substituted, but certain of every word. He had to make them understand how much he appreciated what they were doing. 

‘Oh, dude, you’re such a sap,’ Nino laughed, but his sad smile gave him away. He lightly bumped Adrien on the shoulder, making the teen immediately aware of how truly vulnerable and  _ exposed  _ he had the misfortune of being. No one had ever, or was supposed to see him like this. Not even (or especially,) Ladybug. He suddenly felt an urgent need to hide his face in his hands. Oh god, had he really cried in front of them? He could only laugh inwardly, imagining what father would say if he could see his son now. 

_ You have somehow managed to disappoint me again, I see. You are a disgrace to the Agreste name.  _

Shoving the nasty, poisonous thoughts aside, he slowly looked down at his chest, finally prepared to inspect the damage.

He took a sharp intake of breath. Nope, he hadn’t been prepared enough. Luckily, his pants were still on (small mercies), though he knew he’d have to deal with the hidden wounds that lurked there. Several cuts and bruises of varying, purplish shades, peppered his torso and arms, a certain large, particularly prominent and ugly one blooming garishly over the bottom left corner of his chest. A few crookedly cut bandages and gauze were taped haphazardly to his torso, hiding the more serious gashes. He felt another wave of guilt wash over him. Of course his friends had been panicked.

‘Wow, how did you guys manage to do all this stuff?’ He asked quietly, hoping his gratitude was clear enough in his expression. Due to his lack of social skills, he never knew if his expressions were enough. He was terrified of being misinterpreted, and used frequent emojis and tended to ramble in his texts because of it, however, only Nino was really privy to this side of him. He couldn’t show too much emotion as the son of Gabriel Agreste. 

‘Lots of youtube tutorials, and Marinette actually, creepily, knows a lot about first aid, but I didn’t tell her it was about you, not yet anyway. I didn’t want to freak her out,’ Alya replied casually, and Adrien caught a look of her laptop on the edge of the table. Was he on her desk? On top of a, what looked to be, now very bloody towel? He cringed.

‘Sorry about your towel, Alya,’ the words left his mouth before he could stop them. Alya only gave him a flat look. 

‘Adrien, we talked about this,’ she warned, ‘just shut your pretty mouth. My towel will survive, and if it doesn’t, it doesn’t matter.’ Adrien squirmed under her steely gaze. 

‘Um, so, how long have I been, er, you know…?’ He asked timidly. Nino cleared his throat.

‘Well, I found you this morning when I was going to school, so I texted Alya, and, um, you were, like, freakishly cold, dude, it was actually pretty scary, and you wouldn’t wake up, so Alya helped me carry you to her house, ‘cause it was only a block away, and her parents are both working, and, um, I think it’s around 4:00 now? Yeah, you were out for a while, there, dude,’ Nino rambled, his hands twisting nervously. Adrien smiled in appreciation. Yeah, he definitely had the best friends ever. 

‘So, uh, you want to tell us what happened?’ His friend’s brow creased. Adrien swallowed thickly. 

‘Uh, I think I might’ve gotten caught up in that akuma yesterday, you know, the one with the scissors?’ He said eventually, knowing he wouldn’t be able to describe multiple lacerations and stab wounds any other way. He sighed in defeat, hoping they wouldn’t suspect anything more. Alya covered her hand with her mouth. 

‘Dude,’ Nino breathed.

‘I-I guess it makes sense,’ Alya muttered, her gaze flicking away from him. 

Although Adrien was indescribably grateful, he knew he’d have to get back home  _ really  _ soon, or his father would find out about his tardiness, and his absence from school…

‘Uh, guys, I think I’ll have to be going,’ Adrien moved to get up, bracing himself for the rush of pain, only to fall back weakly in defeat. Alya’s slight push wasn’t even necessary. She only laughed.

‘Okay, Adrien? You’re pathetic. Just lie back, okay? You can deal with your, um, dad, later,’ she reassured, smirking. Adrien only nodded weakly, slightly annoyed with himself, but he didn’t miss the sudden meaningful glance Alya shot at her boyfriend. Nino pursed his lips, looking uncomfortable, before forcing on a smile. 

‘Dude, if you need anything, just holler, okay?’ Nino said, patting his friend on the shoulder, ‘we’ll be right in the other room for a sec.’ 

Adrien only stared at him, as Alya pulled him by the elbow, disappearing through an unseen door behind his head.

Once he was certain the door was securely closed, he called out for his kwami.

‘Plagg?’ He waited apprehensively for a response. He relaxed into a smile when his little cat-god of destruction whizzed from underneath the table, hovering over his Chosen’s head. He crossed his arms, and Adrien could almost see a softness in his gaze.

‘Kid, we got a problem,’ he stated bluntly.

~

‘Nino, I’m  _ telling  _ you, he could actually be Chat Noir.’ Alya stared imploringly at her boyfriend, and he only cringed. 

‘Uh, no way, we’re talking about overly sheltered Adrien, right? Mild mannered? Super reserved? Doesn’t act out, or do anything against his dad’s wishes? You think  _ he’s  _ Chat Noir? Babe, they’re not even, like,  _ remotely  _ similar, except for maybe their looks.’ Nino really couldn’t cram the two people into the same space. It hurt his brain. He couldn’t imagine his best friend flirting shamelessly in a skin-tight leather cat costume, doing parkour over the rooftops of Paris, saving the day with  _ so  _ many cat puns. Hold up, now that Nino thought about it, the dude actually  _ did  _ have a weird attachment to cat memes and puns Nino had only become aware of approximately a year into their friendship. Adrien was a tough shell to crack, but when he did, Nino was almost sorry he had…

Nino chuckled under his breath, but immediately stopped. Nope, nope,  _ nope _ . Adrien could not be Chat Noir, but, that  _ would _ be really cool, though…

‘Okay, well, yeah, Adrien is, like, an apologetic robot, and Chat Noir is, um, a little different, but-

‘A  _ little  _ different?’

‘Well, what are alter-egos for?’ Alya threw up her hands in exasperation, ‘of course they’re going to be different! Hell, maybe Chat Noir is who Adrien really is, he’s just been forced into submission for, like, ever, but,’ her voice became uncharacteristically quiet, ‘Nino, I filmed that entire akuma attack. I was  _ there  _ when the hairdresser even became akumatized. He was outside, with a letter in his hands. He looked like he had been crying. No,’ she snapped her eyes up, and Nino, though he didn’t want to, felt compelled to believe her, regardless of his own doubts. ‘The only one who got hurt that entire attack, was Chat Noir, because he made sure that was the case. He even threw himself in front of that dumb reporter, and, his injuries are  _ consistent  _ to the hits I taped.’

Nino sighed, knowing he had lost. God, that was going to be an awkward conversation.

‘Yeah, okay, babe, I know, I saw the footage,’ he conceded, scratching his head. ‘I just, should we say anything? I don’t think he’d want us to know, and we could still be wrong.’

Alya paused, before shaking her head.

‘No, but I think we should keep a sharper eye on him from now on,’ she said eventually. ‘He’ll think he’s putting us in danger, or something. It does explain why he was never around for akuma attacks, though.’ Nino nodded. 

They stood in silence for a moment, before Alya’s eyes suddenly widened in realization. Nino smiled, knowing what was coming.

‘ _ Nino,’  _ she breathed, taking him by the shoulders, her eyes impossibly wide,  _ ‘we have freaking Chat Noir in my bedroom!’ _

Nino’s mouth slowly fell open.

‘Oh  _ my god _ , I’m best friends with Chat Noir.’

A breath.

‘Um, babe?’

‘Yes?’

‘Should we tell Marinette?’

‘...’

‘...yeah, you’re probably right.’

~

Marinette never made it to school. She couldn’t wait, sitting through endless sums and lectures, while her partner was running around somewhere, akumatized. The only suspicious thing was, she hadn’t seen or heard hide nor hair of him since he’d left her in the street the previous evening. 

That night had been filled with so many twisted nigthmares, it had taken Tikki’s soothing voice to calm her down, but even then, reality only made her realize she couldn’t escape them. Tikki had patiently, and quietly wiped at her tears, her words soft, and comforting in her ear.

That morning, she had been seized with a determination she knew only Ladybug was capable of. She had, guiltily, lain on the ill act for her parents, causing them to gift her with soup and hot chocolate, as they phoned the school to excuse her absence. Apparently she had been convincing, she realized. Chat Noir - _ no, Blanc. He’s not Chat Noir right now. But he will be-  _ had taken a deeper toll on her than she thought. She had scrubbed her puffy, pale face in the sink before sneaking out her trapdoor, her pillows acting as a decoy Marinette. She only swung a small ways across Paris, not willing to draw attention to herself, before dropping into an alley, and detransforming. 

She needed solutions, and Master Fu’s was the most comforting suggestion.

Before entering the massage parlor, Marinette quickly withdrew her phone, as it vibrated with incoming messages. 

**Alya:** Hey, are you at school yet?

Marinette quickly tapped out a response, anxious to enter Master Fu’s and gain some answers and comforting words. Hope.

**Marinette:** No, I’m kind of sick. I’m staying home. 

**Alya:** Oh, never mind then. Hope you feel better soon! :) Maybe I’ll stop by after school?

**Marinette:** Thanks, Alya, but you don’t have to do that.

**Alya:** Ok, I’ll be over at around 4:30, sound good? Great. Later!

Marinette rolled her eyes, a small smile on her lips. Yup, that was Alya. Stubborn, but always meaning well. 

Stuffing her phone in her pocket, she drew a breath, steeling herself, and entered the massage parlor.

~

The tea was warm against her palms, and she sighed, breathing in the tangy, fruity scent. She admitted, it did manage to calm her nerves, if only slightly. She was a little surprised Master Fu owned other brews besides Green Tea, but she couldn’t manage to lessen the queasy lump in the pit of her stomach. 

Master Fu stared at her thoughtfully, his expression carefully schooled, as he thoughtfully stroked his beard, though Marinette could sense his unease, as his eyes considerably darkened. He had listened to her recount of the fight, Wayzz gently handing her a few inconspicuous tissues when she recounted her partner’s brief return to normalcy, and her devastating, unrepenting failure. She couldn’t barely get the words past her lips when she described how he had run off into an alley, still very much akumatized, no longer her partner.

‘Don’t blame yourself, Ladybug,’ he said after a moment of deep contemplation, ‘you have done remarkably, despite the circumstances, and, I regret to say, this isn’t the first time a Ladybug has been forced to go against her Chat Noir, but I confess, I don’t think I’ve ever known a Miraculous holder to be akumatized. I wasn’t even fully convinced it was possible, but now, I see I was foolish.’ Slowly, he uncrossed his legs, and rose from the mat, gravitating to his tablet to retrieve the book of Miraculous. He pulled up the pages, flicking across the screen, until he found what he was looking for.  

‘You couldn’t find the akuma?’ He asked somberly. Marinette haltingly shook her head. ‘I could still try his tail, or his ears, though,’ she offered, after a moment’s hesitation. ‘Maybe his boots-?’

‘Good, yes, try that first, try any inanimate object you can find, before we fear the worst.’

Marinette gulped, her skin curling.

‘W-worst?’ She squeaked, her mouth drying. Master Fu quickly waved her away.

‘Don’t worry about that now. I’m afraid you’ll have to face him again. Perhaps it would be helpful to find out if Hawk Moth has discovered his identity, or how he became akumatized. You might have to get close to him.’

‘C-close?’

‘It will be dangerous, but you are a formidable Ladybug. Meanwhile, I will once again attempt to recreate the power to render any Miraculous wielder impervious to the effect of akumatization. It is the hardest spell to create, and I have not, as of yet, been able to completely decipher it, but I’m confident.’ He gave her a long look, his gaze softening. 

‘Ladybug,’ he said gently, ‘I am confident in your ability to save your partner, and you should as well.’ His brow furrowed, before continuing. ‘You...said he became “himself” for a moment?’

‘Yes,’ Marinette was eager for an excuse to banish the thought of her getting ‘close’ with Chat Blanc. What did that even mean?! ‘Wh-when I kicked him really hard, and had him trapped. H-he started bleeding through his, um, suit, he, um, said he was sorry, and he didn’t...didn’t want to hurt me…’ she trailed off quietly, the sight still sickeningly fresh in her mind. Master Fu hummed thoughtfully.

‘That is interesting,’ he said after a moment. ‘He could have more power against Hawk Moth because of his Miraculous. Plagg could be working very hard for him, giving him more chances to fight against Hawk Moth’s control.’ He paused. ‘Or perhaps extreme pain is able to aid in awakening his conscience, if only for a moment.’ 

Marinette stared at him in horror.

‘Y-you mean I’ll have to hurt him to help him?’ She asked, her grip tightening on her mug. Master Fu sighed, then shook his head.

‘It would be preferable not to come to that, but it is a possibility,’ he said after a moment, ‘but not preferable. I don’t believe it would be a permanent solution. Pain only raises more negative emotions, but for him, it could also act as an awakening shock.’

Marinette nodded numbly, staring into her rapidly cooling tea. Despite Chat Blanc’s words, a part of her still couldn’t help but believe she had been an instrument in his akumatization. 

‘Ladybug, stay strong, as I know you can,’ Master Fu said softly after a moment’s silence. Marinette raised her head. She didn’t think she could, but it was nice of Master Fu to believe, anyway, though she didn’t want to disappoint him. She bit her lip, and slowly set her tea down, the beverage untouched. She didn’t realize how long she had been in his parlor, spilling her heart out, until she realized, with a start, that Wayzz had, in fact, been replacing her cup several times, a healthy row of untouched mugs of tea lining a shelf beside her. She blinked, and stared at the kwami, touched at his effort. Tikki only nudged her green friend, smiling. Wayzz bashfully ducked his head.

‘Do not worry for your partner, Ladybug,’ Master Fu reassured, as he gently escorted her to the door. ‘I will do all I can, and when I find the cure, I will be sure to send Wayzz with word. In the meantime, I’m afraid you will have to face your partner.’ He eyed her sympathetically, and Marinette managed a small smile in appreciation. 

‘Thank you, Master Fu,’ she said, feeling, for the first time, a true, warming spark of hope. She wasn’t as alone in this as she had thought.

As Marinette stepped into the blinding rays of the sun, she quickly withdrew her phone, guilty for having turned it on silent, but she didn’t want to be interrupted. It was 3:30 in the afternoon, she realized with a jolt, as she unlocked her screen. She quickly scanned her pile of missed messages, her eyes widening in alarm.  

**Alya:** So, this is gonna sound weird, but, do you know any helpful tips for doing stitches?

**Alya:** Also, how to check for broken bones?

**Alya:** Um, specifically cracked ribs? How would you treat that, exactly? 

**Alya:** I swear everything is fine, I’m just curious. I might need to know these things one day, u know?

**Alya:** Also, how would you treat a concussion, and help someone if they’re unconscious? Do you, like, wait until they wake up, or…?

**Alya:** Okay, it’s cool, I know ur sick, sorry for bothering you, but I thought you might know a few things, cause you’ve got that massive first-aid kit in your bathroom.

**Alya:** It’s kind of weird, actually.

**Alya:** Anyway, forget about it, I don’t need to know.

**Alya:** Hope you get better soon, girl :)

Marinette stared in growing alarm at her friend’s bizarre messages. Was someone hurt? Was it someone she knew? If it was, why wouldn’t Alya tell her? Unless it was someone she really liked, and Alya was trying to protect her. Was Alya hurt? Nino? Her breath hitched, unwilling to breach the unthinkable. 

Could it be...Adrien?

Marinette’s fingers flew over the keys, as she felt the mounting panic rise in her throat. 

**Marinette:** Alya, what’s going on? r u hurt?

**Marinette:** Talk to me, who is it?

**Marinette:** Do you need me to come over to your house? r u at home?

**Marinette:** Don’t try to protect me, Alya, who is it?

Marinette waited for a few agonizing seconds, dread rising in her throat, when finally-

**Alya:** Calm down, girl, you’re sick, I don’t want you to worry.

Marinette frowned.

**Marinette:** How can I not worry after the texts you just sent me?

**Alya:** Fair enough, but, now that I’ve got your attention, would you mind indulging me? If you can?

**Marinette:** Of course, just tell me who is injured!

**Alya:** Don’t worry, girl, just get some rest. I’ll come over at 4:30 like I said, and explain everything. 

Marinette grit her teeth, itching to run to her house, but she suddenly felt a nudge from Tikki.

‘Um, Marinette?’ She tugged at her Chosen’s shirt, as she poked her head from her purse. Marinette glanced down. 

‘I think you should go home before your parents realize you’re missing.’ 

Marinette’s eyes widened, her blood running cold. She grumbled in frustration, biting her lip, before begrudgingly sending Alya a final text, though she didn’t like it. 

**Marinette:** Fine, but I’m still worried.

**Alya:** Cool, I’ll see you then. Don’t worry, I’ve got everything under control.

Marinette groaned, but obeyed her kwami, running at full speed toward the bakery, dispensing medical advice all the way.

If Alya had been trying to reassure her, she had said possibly the least reassuring sentence in existence. 

~

Adrien stared at his floating kwami, the dread seeping thickly into his bones, mixing miserably with the pain. 

‘S-so you’re saying you don’t remember anything either?’ He asked after a moment’s hesitation, his stomach plummeting. 

‘Not a thing.’

‘A-and I’m supposed to not be in so much, um, I’m not supposed to be this bad?’

Plagg sighed, his cat ears wilting. ‘I’m supposed to be able to heal you and protect you better than this, kid, even without the miraculous cure.’

Adrien clenched his teeth, refusing to allow himself to panic. 

‘Do you think she even did the miraculous cure?’ He cringed, nervous for the response. He only hoped she had captured the akuma. If it multiplied, Adrien didn’t think he was in the best of states to help his lady, but he would none the less try. Chances were, if she hadn’t, there was still a fight to be won.

Plagg was silent for a moment, before reluctantly shrugging.

‘I honestly don’t know,’ he said sadly, ‘usually I’d be able to detect it, but, since there’s stuff we’re both not remembering…’ He trailed off, and Adrien wanted to reach for his kwami, but he still couldn’t lift his arms up that far. 

‘...Plagg?’

‘Yeah, kid?’

‘I’m sorry I don’t have any camembert with me right now,’ Adrien felt intensely guilty for his kwami’s continued lack of sustenance. Sure, the cat complained, and was usually melodramatic, but he knew how much he loved his cheese. 

‘That’s okay, kid.’

Adrien stared. 

‘A-are you sure?’ He stammered in disbelief. The kwami only flew forward, burying his small, black body in the crook of Adrien’s neck, snuggling into the pillows.

‘Weeeell, no,’ Plagg huffed tiredly, ‘you owe me soooo much camembert for making me wait so long,’ he grumbled, but Adrien smiled softly as his kwami only buried his body more deeply into his Chosen, lightly tickling his chin. 

‘But...you’re alright, kid...you’re alright…’ he mumbled, before yawning, and lapsing into purr-ridden snores.

Adrien slowly blinked away the shock, before closing his eyes, exhaustion overtaking him. 

For the first time in a very long while, as he gradually passed out on his friend’s desk, Adrien didn’t feel quite so alone in the world.

~

‘So, you’re really thinking about going? This is your decision?’ 

The blonde woman only smiled, her perfectly painted nails clicking delicately against the marble of her host’s desk, her eyes occasionally darting to the butterfly struggling across the windowpane, its wings folded, and bent. Her painted lips briefly curled into a smile, the wide brim of her hat dipping over her eyes. 

‘Yes. I believe it is time. And you’ll take care of the old man?’ She inquired, shooting the bluenette a hard glance. The woman swallowed under her stare, before hastily nodding, her chin tilted at a proud angle. 

‘You can count on the House of Tsurugi, on our honor,’ she declared stiffly. The blonde only sneered, before rising to her feet. 

‘Of course,’ she assured, before turning on her heel, and strutting from the room. 

‘Are you taking her with you?’ The woman called after her. The blonde briefly paused in the frame of the door, light curving sharply around her flawless figure. 

‘Yes, I believe I shall,’ she stated simply, shooting the bluenette a final smirk.

When she was finally gone, she allowed herself to breathe a soft sigh of relief, however brief it was. Her eyes hardened, and she stood behind her desk, testing the balance of her sharpest sword.

‘Be careful what you wish for,’ she muttered absently under her breath.

The butterfly never knew what hit it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Duh duh duuuuhhhh!!!  
> Hem.  
> Yup, concerned Plagg is best Plagg. Sorry, not sorry.   
> Also, there might be a bit of Adrienette next chapter? Who knows...?!   
> Anway, as always, thanks for reading, and if there's anything you want to see in this fic, or you want me to fix, just let me know! Also, I really appreciate the people who have left me comments and kudos, you have motivated me to no end, you have no idea, thank you!:)


	5. A Helping Hand

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, I meant to get this chapter out earlier, sorry, but, better late than never...? Right? Heheh...  
> Also, sorry, this one also kind of got long, and I promise there will be more action in the next chapter. Also, sorry if the time line and times in general are wonky, just roll with it!  
> Anyway, I hope you like it, and thanks for reading!

Marinette waited impatiently for 4:30 to round the corner, her knee bouncing in agitation as she sat at her desk, attempting to take her mind off the excruciating anticipation with her sketch book. So far, no inspiration came to mind, and when she mindlessly flipped to an older design inspired by her reckless, catlike partner, she could feel tears begin to sting behind her eyes, and promptly snapped the book shut. She resorted to angrily stuffing a croissant in her mouth, as she stole at least a bit of comfort from flipping through one of her various fashion magazines, this particular one  _ just happening _ to contain a healthy abundance of pictures of...she sighed... _ Adrien. _

‘...earth to Marinette, girl, you in there?’ 

Marinette squeaked, and jumped to her feet, stuffing the magazine under a pile of loose fabric. She immediately felt a flush rise in her cheeks as she grinned sheepishly at her, upon painful realization, friend. 

‘H-hey, Alya!’ She stammered, hoping her best friend would mercifully gloss over her panicked behaviour. Alya only grinned mischievously, a knowing gleam in her eye.

‘Oh, no, I apologize for having interrupted your ogling session,’ she smirked, quirking a brow. Marinette felt the blush burn in her cheeks, and she lightly pushed her friend away.

‘Hey, calm down, Marinette, it’s not like this is the first time I’ve caught you…’ she suddenly trailed off, an uncharacteristic frown marring her features as she surveyed a picture of a smiling Adrien illuminated on Marinette’s desktop. She wasn’t surprised, she had, of course seen the image before. Marinette glanced warily at her friend, dread quickly mounting in her stomach in a twisted knot. She swallowed thickly, before placing a hand on Alya’s arm. 

‘Uh, so, are you hurt?’ Marinette asked softly, hoping her mounting panic wasn’t evident in her voice. Alya shook her head, and Marinette let out a breath of relief she didn’t know she had been holding, however her consolation was short lived. 

‘Is it the twins? Nino? Your parents?’ Marinette rattled off, gazing at her friend in concern. Alya quickly slipped Marinette’s hand from her shoulder, and squeezing. 

‘No, it’s none of them, but, um, I don’t want you to freak out, okay?’ She suddenly looked sharply at her friend. ‘Uh, aren’t you supposed to be sick, or something?’ Marinette waved her off.

‘Um, small stomach flu, maybe some food poisoning, anyway, it’s gone now, don’t worry,’ she said hurriedly, her patience wearing thin. How long was Alya planning on keeping her in suspense? ‘Alya, who is it?’

Alya bit her lip, glanced at the floor as if debating on her answer, then sighed in resigned defeat. 

‘Don’t go insane, he needs rest and quiet, and I’m only telling you because you’re my friend and his, and you’re really good at first aid, but-’

‘Alya, I can handle it, okay? I’m stronger than I look,’ Marinette adopted a more Ladybug stance, her shoulders rolling back. Hopefully Alya couldn’t hear the rapid thrumming of her heart in her chest. Alya sighed once more.

‘Okay, yeah, sorry.’ A breath. ‘It’s Adrien. He was, um,’ Alya blinked for a moment, ‘...mugged. He’s got lots of serious injuries. I think the creep had a knife, and some brass knuckles, or something crazy like that.’ Marinette stared at her friend, her mind instantly spiralling to the worst possible case scenarios. Her tongue lodged itself in her throat, nearly choking her. Alya quickly rushed to reassure her.

‘Don’t worry, he’s not as bad as I probably made it sound! I mean, uh, Nino found him in an alley, and we took him back to my place. He had already woken up once, but I think he was sleeping when I left-’

Marinette wordlessly disentangled herself from her friend, stumbling to her vanity, and hefting the large medical bag from the floor. Taking a small moment to summon all her strength of will as Ladybug, pretending for a moment that she was, in fact, wearing the mask, Alya only blinked as Marinette slung the kit over her shoulder, straightening, her spare hand bunched into a fist. She had to, for once, push down all her thoughts of panic, burying the frightened, flustered Marinette. She had to be ‘Ladybug.’ Adrien needed her.

‘Lead the way,’ she said, determined. Alya only nodded, opening the trapdoor. 

~

Marinette thought she was prepared, her back perfectly straight, her knees locked in a stoic position. She could never have been more wrong, as her eyes slowly drifted over to the crown of his golden head, as she stood in the doorway to Alya’s bedroom. Her mouth dried, and she swallowed thickly, steeling herself against her imagination. Nino was already in the room, attempting to rouse him, by gently poking his shoulder. 

‘Hey, uh, dude, Marinette’s here,’ he said quietly as Adrien jerked awake, his head swivelling in slight, momentary confusion. Marinette took in a deep breath, and neared Adrien’s side, setting the medical bag on the desk, close to his thigh. She cringed as she took in the bloodstains on the towel, and quickly held back a scream, her eyes flicking frantically over his bruised and battered body, his bare (here, Marinette had to grit her teeth so hard, she thought they would snap in her head,) torso peppered with bandages, band-aids, and various flushing shades of red, purple, blue, and pink. This was definitely not how she wanted her first glimpse of Adrien without a shirt to go. 

She could see smooth, nicely tanned skin under all the cramped, queasy mess, his ribs poking out perhaps a little too sharply, the outline of the bones visible, but accompanied by a fine tone of muscle. 

Adrien faintly cleared his throat, and Marinette snapped her head up with a jolt, realizing she had been staring. A heated blush crept up her neck, and she could see a similar dust of pink rise in his cheeks, a striking contrast against the unfamiliar sickly paleness of his face. He squirmed ever so slightly under her gaze, and Marinette felt a sudden crushing wave of anger, followed by a panging ache in her chest.  _ Who could have done this to him? _

‘A-Adrien?’ She said softly, hesitating, before gingerly tucking a stray, grimy lock of hair from his forehead. Something familiar stirred in her stomach at the sight of his unusually unkempt style, but she quickly shoved it aside. 

Adrien smiled weakly at her. He had stiffened at the gesture, but soon relaxed, his breath escaping in a ragged hiss. 

‘H-Hi, Marinette, I-I’m sorry you had to see me like this.’ He winced, and she looked down at the largest bruise spreading over his chest, an ugly, smearing stain. She turned to Nino, who sported his own uneasy expression. Of course he had been worrying about his friend. 

‘Why isn’t he in a hospital?’ She asked softly, quickly unpacking the medical kit, laying out various utensils out onto the bloody towel. Adrien’s eyes widened at the sight, and he nervously averted his gaze. 

‘You know what Adrien’s pops is like,’ Nino said quietly, though Marinette didn’t miss the hardened flash in his eyes. She bit her lip, but didn’t press, her heart breaking a little more for her crush. His condition was shocking, to say the least. She never thought she’d ever see him in such a state, in fact, Adrien, in her mind, almost appeared to be an unbreakable piece of delicate porcelain, something too beautiful to be fully  _ human,  _ to be dirty, and broken. Frowning in shame and guilt at her small realization, her brow furrowed, and she bit her lip in concentration.

‘Don’t apologize, Adrien,’ she quickly reassured, giving his shoulder a sympathetic squeeze, careful to pick her way between the cuts, ‘I’m only sorry this happened to you. Do you know who did this?’  _ Wow, she wasn’t stuttering, how did that happen?! _

Adrien swallowed, but before he could answer, Nino cut in.

‘The shady dude had a mask on. Typical mugger.’

Adrien gave Nino an odd look Marinette couldn’t interpret, but she didn’t pry. Perhaps he was still in shock, or was traumatized by the ordeal. Maybe even mentioning his attacker was painful for him. She gave Nino a brief nod, disappointed with the lack of information, swallowed her anger, and gingerly pressed her fingers on Adrien’s chest. She tried not to freak out.  _ She was touching Adrien’s chest! _ Immediately ashamed at the internal screaming, she shoved it down. Adrien was  _ hurt.  _

He instantly hissed at the contact, wincing, and she grimaced apologetically.

‘Sorry! I, um, don’t think they’re broken, they could just be bruised, but,’ she gently retracted her hand, ‘Adrien,’ she gazed pointedly into his dulled green eyes, usually so bright, and luminous with a glowing warmth,  _ as they should be, ‘ _ I really think you should go to the hospital to make sure nothing else is wrong. I know it will be hard, but, um, I think even your father can’t fault you for being mugged…’ Adrien didn’t meet her eyes, so she took his chin in one hand, an action that caused him to flinch as though he had been burned. She swiftly withdrew her hand, scrambling to apologize. 

‘S-sorry, I didn’t mean to, I, er, um…’ She wrung her hands, startled when she felt Adrien’s fingers gently curl around her own. She swore she felt her heart stop in her chest. She didn’t move, too many thoughts crashing and swirling through her mind. Slowly, she flicked her eyes upward to meet his own. He smiled weakly at her, an attempt to be soothing.

‘No, I’m sorry. You didn’t do anything wrong. Th-Thank you, for being here,’ he said softly, and Marinette could only nod numbly, and feel as she all but  _ melted  _ into those twin pools of gorgeous emerald green. 

_ Keep it together! _

Holding back the urge to wrap her arms around him in a tight, reassuring embrace, Marinette smiled, and shook her head. 

‘I wouldn’t be anywhere else.’

~

Nino had to physically restrain his girlfriend from leaping into the air and scream as they watched their two best friends blush furiously (it was nice to see some colour back in Adrien’s cheeks), as Marinette tentatively worked on redressing his bandages, poking in a few stitches here and there. Nino winced as he saw the pain crawl across Adrien’s face, but, curiously he somehow seemed more content than he had in a long time. Including before the, um, ‘accident.’ 

Grabbing a glass of water for his now hyperventilating girlfriend, Nino gently guided her to a chair, and leaned against the sink. God, he was exhausted. 

Walking to school had been...terrifying. He would have simply strolled past that alleyway, completely absorbed in his headphones, if a part of him hadn’t somehow sensed that  _ something  _ was wrong. Just a little voice echoing in the back of his skull was all it took for him to deftly turn his head, as he caught something in his peripheral vision.

There was no mistaking Adrien’s golden crop of hair, and his signature white overshirt. He remembered his headphones slipping from his ears, as he slammed his knees into the pavement in his haste to check if his friend was alive. He wouldn’t open his eyes, his face completely drained of colour, his hands blue from the cold, though it was only the beginning of September. How long had he been lying out there, covered in blood and grit, helpless?

Calling Alya had been his first instinct. She always knew what to do. That didn’t stop her from being just as shocked as him. They did manage to carry his limp form to her house, and prop him on the desk. Alya at least had the presence of mind to offer him a new shirt. Nino felt sick just looking at the stains on his old one.

The worst part was learning how to become an improvisational medic on the fly. Cutting off Adrien’s shirt with a pair of pink scissors was an image Nino wished he could permanently expel from his mind, as the fabric stuck to Adrien’s skin with dried blood. He almost woke up then, his brow scrunching, as he moaned quietly in his sleep. It was good to know he had the potential to wake up.

And now, he was  _ Chat Noir?  _ How was Nino supposed to even process that? Sure, a part of him stung that Adrien never told him, another was bowled over with awe, but a bigger part only felt bad for the dude. Nino knew how lonely Adrien was at home. Then, to have another secret piled on top of that...He probably had to sneak out of the house a lot, was already run ragged by his old man’s crazy schedule, and now...Nino never thought, with how many times he watched Alya’s clips on the Ladyblog, of the leather-clad superhero being bounced around like a ping-pong ball, how any of it really affected the dynamic duo. He also tended to fling himself in front of Ladybug pretty often. 

How many times had Adrien been hiding something from him? Something painful? The largest part of him, however, knew that Adrien always protected others before himself. That meant keeping quiet about his identity, and suffering in silence.

It was strange, he thought, to think of the superheroes as being only  _ human.  _

Humans could break.

Although, this could all just be Alya’s wishful thinking, right?

‘Hey, do you have any cheese? Is this guy usually like this? Helloo?’

Nino blinked, his eyes all but popping out of their sockets.  _ What the hell was that? _

He jerked away from the black floaty thing, his back slamming into the edge of the sink. A quick glance to his right proved that his girlfriend was in as much dumbfounded shock as he was. 

She opened her mouth to scream.

The black floaty thing, that, upon closer inspection, appeared to bear an uncanny resemblance to a bobble-headed cat, flitted through the air to place a (hand, paw?) on Alya’s lips. She blinked.

‘Hey hey hey, there’s no need for that, we’re all friends here,’ the black thing said hastily, ears flattening. ‘Name’s Plagg. I give Chat Noir his powers. The end. I heard you guys talking, and I don’t see any reason why the kid can’t have at least a few people in on his secret. Looks like the cat's out of the bag.’ The black thing paused. ‘And I need cheese. Camembert. Now.’

Nino slowly began to wrap his brain around what just came flying out of the cat thing’s mouth. Chat Noir? Powers? Cheese? Apparently, the cat- _ Plagg,  _ wasn’t a very patient being. He flew from Alya to hover in front of Nino’s face, his arms crossing over his tiny chest, piercing green eyes narrowing, and flashing in irritation.

‘Hellooo? Can I get some camembert over here?’ He scoffed, ‘I’ll never understand humans. They get surprised way too easily.’ 

Numbly, Nino felt his feet shuffle automatically to Alya’s fridge. Cheese. That was a simple enough request, right? Cheese. Get the floaty cat thing some cheese. Okay.

He paused, his fingers gripping the handle. So, did this mean that Adrien really  _ was  _ Chat Noir? And he’d always had this, um  _ thing  _ with him?

Ferreting around in his girlfriend’s fridge did, surprisingly, uncover a small wheel of really stinky cheese. Perks of being the daughter of a hotel chef? Probably. Pinching his nose, and dangling the produce at arm’s length, Nino dumbly watched as the cat thing seized his offering, tearing through the wrapping as though it had been personally offensive, and managed to stuff the entire pungent mess in its face. Nino blinked. The thing’s torso was no bigger than his thumb.

He risked a glance back into Alya’s bedroom, and watched as Adrien curled his hand around Marinette’s, her face exploding into a heated crimson hue.

Should he tell her?

_ No. _

_ It wasn’t his secret to tell. _

~

‘Nooroo? Tell me the truth. Why have I lost control of Chat Blanc?’ Gabriel Agreste clasped his hands tightly behind his back, a gesture he managed uphold to avoid throttling the disobedient kwami where it floated meekly in front of him, head bowed. ‘Well? Answer me.’ Gabriel would never be denied. It wasn’t something he even considered as a possibility. The kwami would talk, and he would submit just as he always had. 

Ah.

But there were others things Nooroo had been keeping from him, weren’t there?

‘Why didn’t you tell me I could even akumatize Chat Noir? Do you intend on betraying me?’ Gabriel spat, his voice lowering dangerously. Nooroo immediately snapped his head up, fear brimming in his lilac eyes. 

‘No, of course not master! Never!’ The kwami rushed to assure him, wings fluttering in agitation. 

‘Then why would you choose to lie to me?’ Gabriel hissed the words through his teeth, his gaze burning into the pathetic demi-god.

‘I-I didn’t know, I thought all miraculous holders were immune to my butterflies,’ the kwami stammered, his paws fidgeting, ‘the Guardians usually ensured they were. I only a-assumed-’

‘So now you’re in the habit of making assumptions? You believe it is your place to withhold information as you see fit?’

‘N-no, master!’ Nooroo waved his arms in alarm, his voice quivering, ‘I’m s-sorry, I didn’t know.’ He drew a quick breath. ‘I-I believe the akuma is still in place, as you can sense it, b-but perhaps his akumatized form is s-somehow linked to his transformation as Chat N-Noir…’ The kwami shivered under Gabriel’s hard scrutiny. No, the kwami couldn’t lie to him. He had made sure of that. 

_ Interesting.  _ If slightly bothersome. He would have to wait until Chat Noir chose to save the day before he could resume his control of the pathetic cat? His negative emotions had not yet entirely dissipated, Gabriel could still feel a certain pain lingering like acid on the back of his tongue, but, they were more...confused. Tangled, and diluted. Regardless, the akuma didn’t feel the need to vacate its newfound home, in fact, Gabriel was beginning to suspect that perhaps even  _ he  _ would have a difficult time removing it.   

A muscle clicked, tensing in his lower jaw, and he huffed out a sigh. No matter, he would regain his control. Of course, it would make things easier if he knew where the boy was at all times, but…

Gabriel slowly left the atrium behind, as he stepped stoically into his office. Taking a brief glance at the digital clock displayed on his computer screen, he pursed his lips. He didn’t realize how late it had gotten.

‘Nathalie, has my son returned from school?’ He asked the question everyday, to ensure Adrien was always on top of his schedule. Today he had at least an hour of piano practise to muddle through, but not before a three hour photoshoot for the very beginning of his fall line. It was already 4:40, his son should either be home, or nearly there. It wouldn’t do for him to be tardy. The photoshoot was to begin at 5:15…

‘N-No, sir, he, um…’ She averted her gaze, her hands stilling on her tablet. Gabriel didn’t like that. He didn’t like that  _ at all.  _

‘ _ Nathalie?  _ Where is my son? _ ’ _

‘He never came home last night, sir, and you were very, um, busy with your-’

_ ‘What?!’  _

‘His friend informed me today that Adrien had a mandatory partner activity concerning school work yesterday, and had therefore stayed at his house to accomplish the task. He apologized for not having informed us earlier, but Adrien’s phone died, and they had lost track of time-’

‘Which friend?’ Gabriel muttered darkly. How could his son have disobeyed him this much?

‘I thought it was alright, as you never, um, came out of your, um...and so I cleared his schedule yesterday. His friend assure me he should be home soon-

‘ _ Which friend?’  _

Gabriel could pinpoint the exact droplets of perspiration as they rolled down his assistant’s forehead.

‘T-The one with the headphones, sir, the DJ? Apparently, he is Adrien’s best fr-’

‘I thought I told my son he was a bad influence? I never wanted the two interacting ever again after he disgraced me in my own home,’ Gabriel felt a dull anger bubble up in his stomach. Adrien had betrayed him, had ignored his dictation. He had run from his own schedule, and he was going to be late arriving to a  _ critical _ photoshoot. 

It appeared Adrien required another lesson in the importance of responsibility.

And trust.

~

‘So, you called my father? That was really thoughtful of you, thanks, Nino,’ Adrien said graciously, and Marinette frowned, her brow furrowing as she concentrated on the final stitch on a particularly gruesome gash on his shoulder blade. 

‘I still don’t think you should be going home,’ she said grumpily, then stopped. Wow, she was doing pretty good, wasn’t she? Relaxing? Controlling her stutter? Marinette gave herself a mental pat on the back, but conceded that perhaps her incredible amount of self-control was due to the fact that Adrien was  _ in pain.  _ And he was refusing to seek professional medical care because he was afraid of his  _ father? _ He had been mugged, and attacked! Realizing she held the potential to snap the thread in her anger, Marinette quickly drew in a deep breath, exhaling through her nose. 

‘I really appreciate everything you guys have done for me, really,’ Adrien went on, his eyes downcast. A part in Marinette only broke a little more at the sight. How could anyone wish to ever be the reason for his sadness? ‘But, I can’t impose any longer. My father will send out search parties if I don’t arrive home soon, and there is also a good chance he’ll never let me leave the house if he finds out about all  _ this-’ _ he gestured at himself lamely, ‘but I’m confident I will only suffer a long verbal lashing for my prolonged absence if he doesn’t.’ He attempted a weak smile, but she doubted even Chloe would be convinced of its sincerity. Marinette tentatively, haltingly, gave Adrien a brief squeeze on the shoulder. 

‘Whatever happens, Adrien, even if your dad doesn’t let you come to school anymore, we will never abandon you, okay? We won’t leave you in that house.’ Marinette spoke slowly, carefully. He had to know he wasn’t alone.

Marinette froze, a warm tingling running warmly through her veins as Adrien suddenly fixed her with a full, arrestingly sincere grin, his eyes sparkling in gratitude, and admiration. Something abruptly lurched inside her. It almost reminded her of the look she got as Ladybug, from a certain black-

_ Nope. _

Marinette only chose to bask in the moment, realizing for perhaps the first time how little Adrien actually  _ did  _ smile. No magazine clipping in the world could compare to the grin he flashed her in that instant, and Marinette would have almost toppled over, her legs rapidly weakening to jelly, if Alya hadn’t grabbed her around the shoulders, reminding her she still had a job to do. The heat surging ever stronger in her cheeks, Marinette hastily tied off her last stitch, covering the wound with another strip of gauze.

‘Thank you, Marinette, that really means a lot to me,’ Adrien said quietly, his voice almost,  _ timid? _ Marinette all but swooned in Alya’s arms. Luckily, Alya was strong, and prepared, as Marinette sank in her embrace. 

‘Well, Adrien, I think you’re all good to go,’ Alya said pleasantly, and Marinette could almost  _ feel  _ her smirk. Adrien smiled ( _ again! _ ) but before he could manage one step on his own two feet, a loud rumble echoed noisily through the room, and this time, it was Adrien’s turn to flush scarlet in embarrassment, his hands automatically closing over his stomach. Attempting to gloss over the situation, he aimed to lurch to his feet, but Nino immediately pushed him back down. It didn’t look like too hard of a task. Marinette narrowed her eyes, filled with a new sense of determination. 

‘Um, I really should be going now-’ Adrien stammered, his hands fidgeting nervously. 

‘Dude, like, when was the last time you ate?’ Nino interjected, crossing his arms, then cringed, ‘yesterday, I mean?’ 

Adrien swallowed, his hand instinctively reaching to scratch the back of his head, but quickly let his hand fall, wincing as his fingers brushed the cut in his neck. A sudden thought tore through her.

‘Hey, Alya, do you have any makeup lying around?’ Marinette inquired, squirming out of her friend’s hold. Alya blinked, brow raised.

‘Uh, sure.’

‘We’ll need to cover a few things up,’ Marinette gestured at the minuscule scrapes on Adrien’s face, another bruise under his chin. ‘Nino, do you have any clothes Adrien could borrow?’ 

Nino nodded, immediately stalking to the door. 

‘And what are you going to do, Marinette?’ A twinkle glimmered in Alya’s eye, and Marinette perched her hands on her hips. 

‘I’m going to get Adrien some food,’ she declared. Ignoring Adrien’s flurry of protests, she fixed him with a pointed stare she didn’t think she’d have ever been able to accomplish around him. 

‘What was the last thing you ate?’ she demanded. Adrien fell silent, his forehead crinkling in thought. 

‘Uh…’

‘If you have to think about it, it’s been too long.’

Stomping to the kitchen, Adrien only gawping at her, Marinette hid her newest blush behind the door of the fridge. 

~

Fed, newly clothed, a bottle of tylenol in his pocket, and face sufficiently lathered in concealer, although, it couldn’t entirely hide the flustered flush in his cheeks, Adrien unsteadily made his way to the door. Alya’s parents were, luckily, working late tonight, permitting them ample time to have cleaned up. Pushing away Adrien’s various apologies and expressions of appreciation, Marinette watched as Adrien shared a gentle embrace with Nino, and Alya, before, lastly, taking her hands in his own. Her heart swelled in her chest, and she feared it would crack through a few ribs.

‘Thank you so much for everything, Marinette,’ he gazed into her eyes, and Marinette prayed her legs wouldn’t fail her this time. ‘I truly owe you, all of you, an enormous debt, and I can’t thank you enough. I’m also glad I got to witness your amazing sewing skills first hand.’ He added, before sending Marinette a rueful wink. 

It was a while, probably a good five minutes, before Marinette was aware that Adrien had, in fact, gone, she was sitting in a chair, and Alya was standing over her with an unrepentant smirk, a glass of water in hand.

‘You alive in there, girl?’

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for once more indulging me, and the next chapter should be up soon!


	6. Hope is a Fickle Thing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry!!! I should really stop using the word 'soon' when I talk about updates...  
> I really meant to get this out sooner, but life, exams, school, and general procrastination happened, so, I'm just glad I managed to do this. I want to learn how to properly balance the plot of this fic, and it will probably be slow going, but I want to do this! I want to write this, I'm sorry if I fail at updating regularly, but I will try harder.  
> Maybe.  
> Anyway, I hope you like this, and there will be more shit going down in the next one. I hope.

Adrien bit his lip, straightening his spine as he steeled himself for the inevitable. Nathalie barely glanced up from her tablet as she ushered Adrien into his father’s own office, but, perhaps he hadn’t imagined a subtle, sympathetic flicker in her eyes? Whatever it was, it disappeared as suddenly as it came, Nathalie quickly schooling her features into their usual stony, emotionless expression. 

Adrien took a deep breath, ignoring the sharp complaint from his rib cage, and looked upward into the cold, disapproving, icy glare of his father. Adrien clenched his jaw so tightly, he half feared he’d crack a tooth.

‘How could you have done this, Adrien?’ His father began in a low tone, the dangerous note of venom laced in every word. Adrien averted his eyes, casting his gaze at the tips of his shoes.

‘I-I’m sorry, father, I had a pro-’

‘A  _ project?’  _

Adrien flinched at the sharpness in the word, a cold, silver edge, and resorted to fidgeting nervously with the ring on his finger. 

‘Thanks to your tardiness, you are now behind schedule, and I’ve been forced to reschedule a critical photoshoot.’

‘I was going to come earlier, and call, I swear, but it was a very important-’

‘Am I not important to you, Adrien?’

Adrien’s eyes snapped to his father. Where had  _ that  _ come from? It was a good second before Adrien managed to untangle his tongue, as it snagged at the back of his throat.

‘N-no, of course you’re important to me, father, I didn’t mean-it was a mistake, I forgot, I’m s-sorry...’ Adrien scrambled for the right words, floundering under his father’s unrelenting, frigid stare.

‘I thought I said we were to trust each other,’ his father said after a moment, his voice quiet. Somehow that was worse than any screaming in the world.

‘We can, it was only one night-’ Adrien cringed. Judging by the immediate flames burning in his father’s expression, it had been the wrong thing to say.

‘Only one night?’ He hissed, advancing slowly, ‘ _ anything _ could have happened to you. I could have lost….’ Adrien watched as his father faltered, the fight abruptly draining out of him, a slight slope in his shoulders. Adrien immediately felt a stab of guilt twist painfully in his gut. He knew exactly what his father was thinking, for the first time in a very long while, or at least he thought he did. Adrien felt a familiar dull ache in his heart, pulsing and throbbing. 

‘You’re not going to lose me,’ Adrien said quietly, tentatively, testing the waters. His father didn’t meet his eyes. ‘I miss mother too, but I’m not going to disappear like her-’

‘That’s enough, Adrien,’ his father’s gaze was hollow this time, dulled, and Adrien felt himself flinch at the steely note in his voice. ‘Go to your room, you’ve been quite disobedient enough for one day. Practice your piano before going to bed.’

Adrien swallowed heavily around the knot in his throat, and bowed his head, slowly turning on his heel. As he walked across the slick tile of his father’s office, his hand reaching for the door, he heard his father call after him one last time. 

‘Adrien?’

Adrien glanced over his shoulder, heart in his mouth. He didn’t know if he could or should expect anything-

‘Please do not disappoint me again. If school becomes too much of a distraction, I may have to reconsider my decision.’ 

Adrien felt his stomach plummet around his ankles, sagging like a sack of stones. He bit the inside of his cheek until a faint tang of metal filled his mouth, and he managed to muster a nod, but his father was no longer looking at him, his eyes darting across the screen of his computer. 

Adrien gently closed the door behind him, fighting the cloying wave of nausea pressing against his temple. 

_ He was a disappointment. _

A part of him scoffed at himself. Well, that wasn’t a surprise, of course no matter what he did, he could never be enough.

_ No school. No friends.  _

_ Trapped. _

Adrien attempted to fight the mounting surge of panic, as his vision began to blur.  He couldn’t see, and he didn’t know he had reached the top of the stairs, until his sneaker slipped from under him.

Adrien landed heavily on his knees, but, miraculously, managed to thrust his hands out in front of him in the nick of time, his wrists jarring at the impact, his cheek inches away from the corner of the step.

Something inside him snapped.

Adren let out a sob, choking on the noise, praying no one heard him. His cheeks and eyes burned with a stinging wetness, and his head began to spin in a hazy fog, his heart clattering noisily in his head, pounding in his ears. The cuts flared and screamed, bruises whining in protest. Adrien slammed his mouth shut, determined to stifle any treacherous sound. Arms shaking, sweat cold on his brow, Adrien forced himself up the stairs, nearly crawling to his room, dragging himself just beyond the door, before collapsing in a heap on the floor. 

It was a while before Adrien felt he could properly breathe again, his gasps short and clotted. 

Perhaps he would just lie there for a while. He didn’t have to move just yet.

Gradually, the blood cleared from his head, and Adrien only slumped forward as his vision swirled with shadow.

Darkness.

 

~

 

Marinette cursed quietly under her breath as she pricked the tip of her finger with a pin. Hissing, she stabbed another into the dress she was currently designing at the spur of the moment, a helpful distraction to blot out the image of Adrien’s blood colouring a fluffy white bath towel, of her own needle poking through torn flesh-

Nope. Marinette flung down her newest project, pressing the heel of her palm into her forehead. She couldn’t go to bed, every time she attempted to close her eyes, Chat’s hideous, haunting, lilac stare drifted across her vision, taking respective turns with Adrien’s own dulled, emerald gaze, dimmed and clouded with pain. A sickening knot squirmed in her stomach, and she groaned, doubling over. Why did the two most important boys in her life chose to give her so much grief at once? Why couldn’t they at least try to give her a break…

Marinette sighed, wiping a hand over her brow. What kind of a father would be disappointed in their own son for seeking medical attention? For requiring-

‘Marinette, you should really try and get some sleep,’ Marinette slowly allowed her eyes to drift over to the small concerned kwami hovering four inches from her nose. 

‘I can’t help it, Tikki, I’m just so worried for both of them,’ curling in on herself, she fell back onto her chaise lounge. ‘What if I can’t do it on my own? What if I can’t get Chat back? What if Adrien can never come back to school-’

‘It will be okay, Marinette-

‘How do you know?’ Rubbing roughly at the tears threatening to spill from her eyes, Marinette gazed at her kwami. Did she know something Marinette didn’t? Was there some magical lucky charm she could use, that would reverse everything?

‘I know you are stronger and braver than you give yourself credit for,’ Tikki proffered, snuggling under the bluenette’s chin. ‘Even and especially when you’re not Ladybug. I know both Chat and Adrien need your help, and you won’t fail them.’ The small red god huffed quietly into Marinette’s neck.

‘And you won’t be alone. Don’t forget, you’ll never be alone.’ 

Marinette felt her heart swell warmly at the words she didn’t know she needed to hear, until they spilled from her precious kwami’s mouth. She was truly lucky to have Tikki, her family, her friends.

It would be difficult, and a part of her knew she would never be ready, but… 

It wasn’t as if the world would wait for that.

 

~

 

School passed in a mild frenzy, Marinette barely paying attention to any lecture or class, her pen playing erratic rhythms on the cover of her notebook. Alya and Nino were similarly distracted, all consciously due to the fact that they were all, admittedly, keeping stray eyes on Adrien.

_ Why was he at school? He should be at home, resting! _

More than once between classes, she was tempted to drag him into the hall and commence her carefully planned interrogation, but she never got the chance. 

Until lunch.

Marinette didn’t have to be one of his photographers to know he was wearing more concealer than usual, to blot out the darkened circles under his eyes, fill in the drawn paleness of his usually tan complexion. He didn’t walk with his usual ease, a slight twitch or stumble to his every step, but he attempted to maintain a smile, a small, strained lift at the corners of his lips. Marinette frowned. Come to think of it, the look was often employed, a perfect constant. 

She didn’t realize what she had been missing, how beautiful his face could really light up and blind her, until she saw the real deal. 

Now, this hollow substitute only left her with a fresh sense of nausea, sifting heavily through her mind, cinching her stomach. To think the look previously sent her swooning.

Adrien approached their claimed picnic table, a small, brown paper bag clenched stiffly in his right hand. His smile instantly dipped to a worried frown as he glanced at her.

‘Marinette? Are you okay? What’s wrong?’ He inquired gently. Sensing a sudden burning flush leaking into her cheeks, Marinette steadfastly returned his sweet, gentlemanly concern with a furious, pointed glare. He flinched as if he had been slapped.

‘You’re what’s wrong, Adrien, I, uh, not that you’re “wrong,” you’re perfect, gah, no, I mean-’ cutting herself off mid-ramble, Marinette balled her hands into fists. ‘You’re not supposed to be here!’

Adrien at least had the decency to adopt a sheepish, guilty expression.

‘I’m s-sorry, I had to come, I-’

‘No! No, you didn’t!’ Oh, no, she was going to give him a piece of her mind, ‘you could pull a stitch, or hurt yourself at any moment! You could fall down stairs, someone could bump into you, hug you, what if someone hugs you, Adrien? What if you faint?!’ 

Adrien only blinked at her, mouth partially open. 

‘I-I don’t think anyone will hug me, Marinette-’

‘ _ Adrikins _ !’

The blonde tackled the model from behind, thrusting all her weight into his back, hooking her arms around his neck, nearly strangling him, shaking him roughly back and forth as if he were a rag doll. 

A wave of horror stole over her, as Adrien’s carefully sculpted features broke into a splintered, fear-stricken mask of pain, the muscles in his face contorting with the obvious effort not to cry out, his jaw flapping soundlessly. His lunch fell from stiffened fingers.

Marinette bolted from her seat, and, judging from the muffled scrambling behind her, Alya and Nino weren’t far behind. 

‘Aren’t you happy to see me, Adrikins? I still don’t understand why you insist on eating lunch with these freaks-’

_ ‘Let him go!’ _

Chloe, after a brief moment of shock, immediately fixed her with her usual contemptuous sneer. Was it her imagination, or was it even more pronounced than usual? Their recent closet conversation surged to the surface of Marinette’s mind, and she only barely managed to keep her hands at her sides.  _ If she hadn’t been trapped, maybe Chat wouldn’t have been stolen from her- _

‘He isn’t yours, Dupain-Cheng, you can’t take him away from me,’ she spat, tightening her grip around Adrien’s neck. Marinette watched, as all the remaining blood drained from his face. 

‘He isn’t yours either, Chloe, he’s not an object,’ Alya snapped from Marinette’s left, pinning Chloe with a simmering, fiery scowl. 

‘You can’t tell me what-’

‘Chloe, he’s sick,’ Nino interjected hastily.

At that, Chloe immediately loosened her hold, backing up into Sabrina, her hands curling into the air as she squealed.

‘Adrikins, why are you at school-’

Her sentence was cut short, as Adrien swayed on his feet for a fraction of a second, before promptly collapsing to the ground.

Nino caught him under the arms, propping the model against his chest, as his head lolled back at an unnatural angle.

Chloe screamed.

Marinette dove forward, immediately putting her hand to his forehead, supporting his neck with the other. His skin was clammy to her touch. 

‘Get the nurse!’

Alya took off running.

 

~

 

Adrien blinked the hazy fog from his eyes, slowly focusing on a beautiful pair of bluebells.

Except they were scrunched, and glazed with worry.

_ No, I’m okay, Ladybug, don’t worry about it. _

He hated when she was concerned. He only ever wanted to see her smile.

_ Wait… _

Slowly, Adrien’s stupid mess of jumbled thoughts decided to straighten themselves out. 

_ Marinette. _

He was lying down, he soon realized, the ground soft, and spongy. Adrien half chuckled at the thought of what his father would say if he caught Adrien lying in the grass in his designer clothing-

_ Father. _

Against all the protestations in his body, Adrien sat bolt upright, startling Nino on his left. Marinette pushed a hand to his shoulder.

‘Adrien! We were so worried, don’t get up-’

_ Oh, no, he fainted, didn’t he?  _ Chloe had decided to treat him to her own special branch of embraces reserved just for him.  _ Oh god, that had really hurt- _

‘M-Marinette, please, I’m fine-’

‘No you’re not, Alya went to get the nurse-’

_ Nonono- _

‘Marinette, if my father gets a phone call, he might not ever let me go to school again, he’ll keep me locked...away…’ Adrien’s breath hitched in his throat, and he pushed himself to his feet, fighting the overwhelming urge to vomit, clutching his head between his fingers. ‘Please, Marinette,’ he begged.

She opened her mouth to protest. Without thinking, Adrien placed his hands on her shoulders, gazing into her eyes. She had to understand.

‘Please.’

Conflict evident in her features, she eventually relented, letting out a pained sigh.

The nurse was swiftly sent back to her office upon arrival, muttering darkly under her breath of the dramatics of models.

Adrien, without a second thought, relief crashing in waves over his head, pulled Marinette into a soft embrace, burying his nose in her hair.

He caught a whiff of cinnamon, of sugary spice, a tang of strawberry, and a sweet lilt of vanilla. He nearly melted.

‘Thank you,’ he mumbled thickly.

The rest of the school day passed in a fuzzy blur. 

 

~

 

‘Kid, are you trying to kill yourself?’

‘No.’

‘Well, it sure seems like it.’ Plagg flitted to his hidden stash of camembert. Cheese spewing from his mouth, Plagg glared at his chosen. Adrien visibly wilted under his gaze, slumping stiffly in his desk chair, barely concealing a grimace. Plagg ate to stifle the sickening stab of guilt to his chest. 

He hated to see his chosen like this. He should have been able to protect him better than this, or at the very least aid in the healing process. The stupid kid was always flinging himself recklessly into action, whether it be to impress his Lady, to buy her time, or to simply protect her from harm. He couldn’t stand to see her hurt, leading to many close calls. Too many. Every time, Plagg was left with an uncomfortable twinge in his gut, reminded constantly of the kid’s mortality. The idiot would sacrifice everything for her. 

One of these days, it was going to get him killed. 

It wasn’t the first time Plagg had witnessed this foolhardy phenomenon. 

Plagg didn’t know if he preferred it to it’s sinister counterpart, the black cat pitted against the ladybug-

_ No. _

Plagg hastily shook the memories from his mind, shoving more cheese in his mouth. No, pure, blind, selfless devotion was better, but either way, Plagg was left with the teetering, unstable weight of his chosen’s life on his shoulders.

Why couldn’t he ever get a rational, normal one?

His narrowed, piercing green gaze slowly landed on his newest kitten. No, Adrien was a good fit for him, he was forced to admit. Of course he was a hopeless romantic, a sentimental sap, but his heart was also the best, if not the worst, thing about him. 

The unease twisted, rearing its ugly head. Something was off, Plagg could feel it, sense it in the whole where memories should be, the blank spot of white nestled in his brain. There were fragments missing, pieces of a puzzle he couldn’t quite put together. How was it they were running across rooftops after the akuma, only to end up in some dingy alley?

This was why Plagg didn’t regret his decision. Adrien would hold all his pain guarded close to his chest in his effort not to expel it onto others. Even if it was just superstition, Plagg could feel the ominous hairs on the back of his neck curling. Something was coming, something was changing, and his kid would drown in his effort to hold everyone up, sinking under the crushing weight, never asking to be pulled out of the pit himself. Of course it had been risky, but Adrien was going to need help, need support, and it wasn’t as if he would ever want to appear weak in front of his “Lady.”

But, Plagg figured, if anyone could be trusted with his chosen’s secret and rise up to the challenge, it was the kid who had been akumatized for having been denied the chance to help his best friend.

In the moment of his decision, Plagg had also been hard pressed for some camembert.

Eyeing his chosen, he watched as Adrien’s eyes flickered closed. The poor kid had a long day. Well, it wasn’t as if that would stop Plagg from giving him a hard time.   

‘I guess this means you’ll just have to become more skilled in the art of avoiding Chloe Bourgeois.’ It didn’t hurt to attempt to lighten the mood. Adrien uttered a muffled groan.

‘Well, she won’t hug me now she thinks I’m sick, she wouldn’t risk it,’ Adrien reasoned, popping the lid off his bottle of painkillers.

‘Got to admit, you really are stepping into the role of a  melodramatic model, aren’t you?’ Plagg couldn’t help the smirk on his lips, ‘next thing you know, you’ll be-’

Adrien’s phone chose that moment to cut into Plagg’s quip, buzzing obnoxiously on his desk. Adrien immediately reached for the device, before freezing. Plagg caught sight of the red alert flashing across the screen.

He cursed inwardly.

_ Great. Just great. _

‘Don’t even think about it, kid-’

Too late. Adrien was hobbling to his feet, phone clenched determinedly in his right fist. 

‘My Lady needs me,’ Adrien’s gaze hardened with resolve. The feeling stirred, gripping the kwami in a vice.  

‘Plagg, Claws out!’

_ No. _

Something wasn’t right. Something wasn’t  _ right- _

Plagg didn’t have time to cry out, the ring beckoning him into its metal embrace, ensnaring, only, it wasn’t alone this time.

Tendrils, thick and dark, tore at him, strangling, prying, picking. Plagg couldn’t fight, couldn’t scream. They forced their way down his throat, choking him, filling every part of his being, every crack and crevice. An enveloping sense of anguish seeping into his bones, pulling at his heart, a strangling poison. Soon, there was only-

Black.

White.

Nothing.

 

~

 

Marinette was torn.

Her chest ached with anger and fear, worry embedded in her very soul for her crush, while at the same time, she couldn’t seem to quell or stifle the fuzzy, numbing feeling in the pit of her stomach, fluttering over her arms, tingling under her skin. There was a strong possibility she wasn’t ever going to wash her shirt again.

She had also adopted a faint sense of pride.  _ Great job, Marinette, you told him what you meant to say. You got the words out.  _

Regardless of her conflicting jumble of emotions, her overwhelming, consuming concern for Adrien won out over all, and it took every ounce of her remaining will-power not to run to his house, and watch over his every move, ensuring he didn’t fall, or hurt himself, or-

The rattling of her phone sliced cleanly through her thoughts, scattering them to the far winds. 

It only took a small glance at her screen to coax Marinette’s already exhausted brain into an even tighter frenzy, her tongue coiling at the back of her throat.

But she didn’t have a choice.

‘Tikki, spots on!’

As Ladybug whizzed over the rooftops of paris in search of the latest akuma, she could only hope it wasn’t to cross paths with her former partner. 

 

~

 

‘Bye-bye little butterfly,’ Ladybug released the purified insect into the air, watching as it flitted away from her on gleaming white wings. Defeating the akuma herself proved even more difficult than she originally thought it would be. 

Guiltily, a part of her had entertained the small notion that she would be more than capable, probably even more effective, in dealing with the akuma on her own. 

A small part.

But a larger trusted, and even depended on her partner’s often overlooked contributions. He was more than just her sidekick, as he was popularly portrayed in the public eye. He was her partner, her equal.

And it took losing him to finally realize what that actually meant.

Kneeling on the pavement, Ladybug gently knelt in front of the newest akuma victim. It was a cop this time, and Ladybug couldn’t help but hide her slight surprise. The woman gazed at her with helpless hazel eyes, her stare glassy. Short brown hair hung haphazardly around her chin, her harsh breath playing at the strands.

‘Ladybug? Oh-oh no, I was...I-’ The woman quickly stifled any whimper in her sleeve, bending into the crook of her arm. A hardened wall of steel quickly replaced her anguish, and she clambered to her feet on her own.

‘I-I’m sorry, Ladybug, an officer of the law shouldn’t be terrorizing the city,’ a stray hand lifted to finger her badge. ‘I might be forced to resign for this, I-I can’t-’ a slight quiver in her lip betrayed her, and she bit down hard on the cracked flesh to keep it steady. Ladybug felt herself stiffen in shock. Resign? They couldn’t do that, she wasn’t responsible for-

‘I shouldn’t let my emotions get the best of me, I was upset, I recently lost my oldest partner in a-a shooting, I,’ the woman blinked heavily, and Ladybug found herself placing a steady hand on the woman’s shoulder. 

‘I’m very sorry for your loss,’ Ladybug said quietly, wishing she could do more, somehow purify the woman’s aching heart, toss her lucky charm in the air.  Wasn’t that what Ladybug did? Wasn’t that her job? 

‘This isn’t your fault, we can’t always suppress ourselves, and you shouldn’t be blamed for something you had no control over.’

The cop spared her a furtive glance, the shadow of a tired smile gracing her lips. 

‘Thank you, Ladybug, but I’m afraid the world isn’t as lucky as all that.’

Ladybug was left, stranded, a sharp numbness creeping into her chest.  _ Why was she so useless? _

‘A shame you can’t fix everything, bugaboo,’ a lazy drawl echoed over her head, and Ladybug felt her blood curdle. 

On cue, her earrings decided to give her a small warning chirp.

Spinning on her heel, heart hammering in her throat, Ladybug only barely managed to catch the baton swinging for her head, knocking the weapon off course with a toss of her yo-yo.

‘You’re wrong, I can and I will fix you, chaton,’ Ladybug hissed between her teeth, ducking under a sharp swipe of his claws.

‘I don’t need saving, m’lady, unlike you,’ Chat Blanc snarled darkly from beneath a glowing lilac gaze.

‘Yeah? Well, where did you go, Chat? Why did it take you this long to show up? Went to lick your wounds after the last fight?’ Ladybug managed a swift blow to the side of his head, but before she could take advantage of his stumble, he darted up a lamp post, belt tail flicking in agitation. She really didn’t want to hurt him like this, but it wasn’t as if she had much of a choice.

‘None of your business, bug,’ he snapped, moving to leap over her head. She didn’t give him the chance.

Her fingers wrapped around the tip of his belt this time, tugging hard, and she winced at his startled yelp. Landing hard on his chest, he squirmed to pull away, struggling fiercely against her iron grip. He eventually wriggled out of his belt himself, surrendering the leather tail. It went eerily limp in her grasp.

Her earrings gave their one minute warning. Cursing under her breath, Ladybug took one last look at her rogue chaton, his pupils narrowed to black slits. 

‘This isn’t over, Chat, but I’ve got to go! Bug out!’ She called, flinging the former false appendage over her shoulder as she flung herself to the nearest alley.

Releasing her transformation, Marinette managed to fish a pair of scissors from her handbag, snipping through the white leather, not particularly surprised when her efforts proved pointless. Of course he wouldn’t surrender the akumatized object so readily.

It only took a few more minutes, before the belt crumpled in her hands in a blinding flash of green and purple light. She squinted against the glare, blinking at her empty hands.

He...de-transformed? How could he do that? And Hawk Moth was now capable of creating two akumas at once? If he was out of costume, if he truly did run out of time, like she did, was he still akumatized in his civilian form? 

Marinette leaned into the brick of the wall behind her, rubbing her temples.

Maybe he really did disappear after their last fight, returning to his former self. If that was the case, then all she really had to do, was trap him, hold onto him until his transformation broke, and hopefully save him in his civilian form! She could do that, right?

But what if she was wrong?

Marinette rubbed the exhaustion from her aching limbs, stumbling from the mouth of the alley to begin her journey home.

Hope mixed with burning, bubbling doubts and fears.

If only she didn’t have school tomorrow.

And homework.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your patience, and as always, for bothering to read this! Also, if there's anything you'd like to see in an akumatized Chat Noir fic, or something, feel free to let me know! I've got a plan, don't worry, but I'm always open to suggestions and ideas ;)


	7. On His Tail

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry again for the wait, but I think this one is out at least a little earlier (see? I'm trying:)
> 
> Also, wanted to put a WARNING here for more violence, I'm sorry, the descriptions get a little more hairy here, just be wary, but not until nearer to the end. 
> 
> Anyway, thanks for reading!

Nino watched as his best friend let out a small groan, clutching a packet of ice to the side of his head. At least this time he could sit upright. He took note of the distinct trembling in Adrien’s body, his teeth clipping out a small tap dance, his free hand twitching in his lap. Without a second thought, Nino marched to the linen closet, extracting one of the fluffier, green blankets, unfolding it in a flourish, before casually tossing it over his friend. 

Adrien gave a small indignant huff, peeling the top away from his face, before snuggling into the blanket’s embrace. Nino watched as his friend all but curled up, a barely perceptible rumble emanating from under the covers. Immediately, Adrien’s eyes flew open, cringing with obvious embarrassment, but Nino decided to pretend he hadn’t just heard him purr like a goddamn cat and  _ how did he not see it before? So freakin’ obvious, dude. _

‘Th-thanks, Nino, and, um, sorry about all this,’ Adrien stammered, averting his gaze. Nino’s smirk quickly fell, as he was reminded why Chat Noir was currently occupying the space on his living room couch. Nino had been walking from a small gig he had at a kid’s birthday party, and decided to take a shortcut through a nearby alley. Was it pure luck that he managed to find the civilian form of one of the superheroes of Paris, slumped against a brick wall, dazed? 

Nino gingerly took a seat on Adrien’s left, working hard not to show his slight mounting sense of dread in his expression.

‘Um, dude, is there something going on? With you? You know, you could tell me if there was…’ Nino faltered, wondering, not for the first time, how in the world his sheltered, eternally polite, teen model best friend became a smart-ass, leather-clad black cat with a habit of tossing akumas into the dirt nearly every other day.

And boy were the attacks increasing.

Squinting, Nino peered at his friend’s ‘too innocent’ expression, and Adrien imperceptibly shied away.

‘Uh, erm, no?’ Adrien coughed, fixing his stare firmly on a spot on the blanket. ‘I-I’m sorry, I think I just kind of, um, tripped and fell?’ Even the blond had the decency to cringe at the feebleness of his explanation. Come to think of it, the embarrassingly bad excuses every time an akuma showed up to terrorize their school were steadily becoming more understandable. 

‘Nothing to worry about, I think I’ve just had a rough week, lots of shoots, and stuff,’ Adrien quickly added.

Nino gave a slow nod, before feigning a smile. Right, his friend wasn’t about to reveal his ‘secret’ identity, but Nino knew of a little bobble-headed cat thing that would probably prove to be slightly more informative. Provided it was coaxed with the right currency.

‘Right, sorry, bud, I’m just kind of worried about you,’ Nino awkwardly proffered a pat on the bony tip of Adrien’s knee, before sauntering casually into the kitchen,  _ that’s right, totally casual,  _ and ever so nonchalantly extracted a carefully pre-paid for wheel of camembert from the fridge. Luckily, the kitchen had a sliding door, which Nino left open a strategic amount, while still managing to hide his activities from view. Fumbling with the package, Nino ever so delicately cut off a fat, juicy wad of the pungent, gooey mess,  _ I guess this explains the weird smell Adrien just sort of seems to carry around with him everywhere,  _ holding the wedge up in the air at arm’s length.

‘Alright, you got me, now give it.’ 

Nino didn’t hide his smirk, as the blobby cat thing snatched the offering from his fingers, swallowing the morsel in one quick gulp, before promptly diving for the remaining wheel. 

‘I would like to know what the hell is going on with my dude, Adrien,’ he asked calmly. Nino would not be placated by this weird cat demon.

The cat proceeded to give him a flat look. Wait, what was its name? Plagg?

‘Okay, I give the kid his powers, I’m not the bad guy here, just so we’re clear,’ the cat spoke around another mouthful of cheese, but Nino didn’t miss the subtle shift in his eyes, almost as if a shadow had decided to seep into its gaze. 

‘The thing is,’ the cat began slowly, swallowing, ‘I’m not actually completely certain of what’s been going on,’ his stare instantly narrowed to its usual slits, ‘which is where you come in, with the help of your suicidal reporter girlfriend, of course.’

Nino blinked.

‘W-what-no, she’s not suicidal-’

‘She will make it easier for you to be able to follow Adrien when he’s transformed-’

Nino frowned.

‘Wait, transforming? The dude has to rest, like he did for the last attack. Sure, Ladybug had to do it on her own, and all, but-’

Plagg slowly nodded, his ears twitching.

‘So we didn’t actually get there,’ he said pensively, ‘interesting.’

Nino frowned. ‘Why’s that interesting?’

Plagg rolled his eyes. 

‘Do you think Adrien is the type of person who would let the love of his life fight on her own, even if he was unfit to properly help her?’ Plagg snapped, before mumbling something that sounded suspiciously like ‘stupid idiot’ under his breath.

‘Adrien-wait, he’s actually in love with her?’ Nino decidedly cringed for his friend. It was common knowledge Ladybug consistently shut down any of the cat’s poor advances. Nino internally winced at his friend’s version of flirting, but, then it all sort of clicked.

It was probably why Adrien was so irrevocably blind concerning Marinette’s blatantly obvious crush. His eyes were clouded.

Homeschooling was probably also a helpful contributor to his lack of picking up on social cues.

At Plagg’s unamused expression, Nino gradually came to a separate realization.

_ Oooh. _

_ Oh no. _

‘Um, so you’re saying he did transform last night? Then-’

‘I don’t know, and neither does he!’ Plagg threw up his arms in exasperation, ‘I was hoping your girlfriend caught something on tape, but he transformed against my better judgement in his room, and then…’

‘Then…?’

‘Nothing,’ Plagg stuffed another fistful of cheese in his mouth, as his ears wilted on the tip of his head. 

‘Nothing?’ Nino was officially confused. Not like that was a new emotion in the last two days.

‘Nothing,’ Plagg snapped, spewing cheese crumbs, ‘there’s nothing. I can’t remember, he can’t remember, and we woke up in that alley like yesterday.’

Plagg methodically finished the rest of his cheese, and floated mere inches from Nino’s nose, forcing him to slightly cross his eyes.

A flicker of softness entered the cat’s gaze, and Nino was abruptly aware of how small he really was.

‘My kid, we, need your help,’ he said quietly, ‘nothing like this has happened before, not in all my centuries, and I just want my kid to be safe.’ With that, the small cat blob vanished through the kitchen door.

Nino haltingly followed suit, the warm glow from the kitchen spilling into the living room, illuminating the spot on the couch where his best friend had promptly fallen asleep on his side, his knees tucked to his chin. Nino quietly inched towards the couch, carefully adjusting the blanket from where it had begun to fall. 

He would have to wake the dude at some point; Nino doubted his old man would appreciate his son mysteriously disappearing.

Not to mention Nino’s own parents would be arriving home very shortly, not that they would particularly mind, but Adrien probably wouldn’t appreciate all the extra questions and attention. 

Besides, Nino was already working overtime in his continued attempts to prevent Alya from cornering Adrien into an interview for her Ladyblog.

Nino, generous as he was, gave the superhero a gracious few minutes more, before gently shaking him awake. Adrien stared at him through dulled, unfocused eyes, and Nino stifled a chuckle at his unruly bed hair.  _ Hello, Chat Noir. _

‘Nino? Wha-time,’ he blinked heavily, hiding a yawn behind his fist, ‘what time is it?’ 

‘Around seven.’

‘What-?!’ Nino watched as Adrien struggled with the blanket, before letting out a pained yelp, clutching his ribs. Nino surged forward, gently righting Adrien himself, gripping him around the shoulders, and kicking the blanket away with his foot. Adrien shot him a grateful look, his cheeks flushing.

He watched as Adrien made his way to the door, and Nino felt something in his chest clench. 

‘Hey, um, thanks, Nino, again,’ Adrien mumbled thickly on the steps.

‘No problem, but, are you going to get home okay?’ 

Adrien shot him a crooked grin, a tiredness vivid in his pale green eyes.

‘I’ll manage,’ he said simply, ‘see you tomorrow.’

‘Yeah,’ Nino wavered at the door, as he watched his friend walk stiffly into the street, a slight hunch to his shoulders.

His best friend was freakin’ Chat Noir, and he needed Nino’s help.

_ Don’t worry, dude, we’ll fix this. _

And Hawk Moth will have his ass kicked for ever having stuck a finger on his best friend.

 

~

 

Alya fidgeted in her seat, her leg bouncing. It was taking all her internal will-power she didn’t know she even possessed to not lean forward and bombard Adrien with a million questions,  _ hey, why haven’t you tried to be more generous with interviews for your best friend’s girlfriend, hmm, Chat Noir?  _ Not to mention it didn’t entirely seem fair to her that Marinette should be kept in the dark. Not that she would actually listen, though, no, Alya had pointed out their similarities various times, and each time Marinette was either extremely skeptical, offended, slightly disgusted, or suspiciously defensive. 

Perhaps too defensive…

‘Alya? Are you okay?’ 

Alya shook herself out of her revery, turning to meet Marinette’s concerned frown, her brow furrowed. Not for the first time in the last few days, Alya noticed the pronounced darkness around her friend’s eyes, a pale waxiness to her skin. 

‘Huh? Uh, yeah, girl, how about you, have you been sleeping alright? You look kind of out of it.’ 

Marinette returned her unease with a flustered smile.

‘Who, me? I-I’m fine, Alya, completely, one hundred per cent a-okay!’ Alya caught the small nervous flicker in her eyes. Yeah, that was definite code for ‘please help.’ 

‘Marinette, you can talk to me if something’s wrong, you know,’ she didn’t miss the way Marinette’s eyes surreptitiously slid to the side, and Alya pursed her lips in understanding.

_ Oh, right. _

‘Marinette, he’ll be fine, don’t worry, we’ll keep an eye on his stubborn-’

The girl blinked, before hastily nodding, catching her lip between her teeth.

‘R-right, Alya, sorry, I guess it’s just hard to worry about Adrien so much.’

Alya’s suspicious reporter instincts immediately kicked into high gear.

‘Wait, that isn’t it, right?’ Alya didn’t bother reigning in the smirk slowly inching its way into existence, ‘you’re worried about…’

She took a stab. It wouldn’t hurt, right?

‘Chat Noir’s disappearance,’ Alya grinned in satisfaction when Marinette’s cheeks promptly exploded into a betraying blush. 

‘Oh, girl, it’ll be okay, maybe the cat just got caught at the vet, or something, I’m sure he’ll turn up,’ Alya spoke over Marinette’s flurry of indignant stammers of objection.  _ You have a crush on Chat Noir, girl, admit it. He’s sitting right in the same spot as the model you drool over every day. _

Of course, Nino had filled her in on Adrien’s cat nap on his couch the previous evening.

‘It’s-it’s not that, I’m just-’

Alya bruised her jaw as she was flung forward into her desk. The floor shook, the walls creaking in protest. Alya, rubbing her chin, barely registering the pain before she was on her feet, phone in hand. 

An increase in screams outside the classroom was the only confirmation she needed.

_ Akuma. _

‘Hey, stay safe, girl, I’ve got a superhero to catch up to,’ Alya called over her shoulder, before barrelling into the school hallway. Unexpectedly, she felt a hand on her arm. She swung around in irritation, ‘I’ll be fine, let me go-’

‘Alya, we’ve got to, you know,’ Nino jerked his head to where Adrien was not-so-subtly attempting to sneak out of the class. Mme Bustier, meanwhile, had her hands full attempting to choral the rest of the class into an orderly line. Her efforts shortly proved unsuccessful.

‘Alright, class, just be careful,’ Mme Bustier called weakly, as the remainder of the teens ran in varying directions.

_ Oh, right.  _ Plagg wanted them to tail Chat Noir and his new case of amnesia.

Alya clenched her phone harder, the case digging into her palm, as she slightly puffed out her chest. She had a mission, she was needed by one of Paris’ superheroes.

And one of her closest friends. 

‘Right, let’s follow that cat,’ Alya adjusted her glasses, pushing them up securely on the bridge of her nose, and snatched Nino’s arm in a tight grasp, before speeding after the elusive blond.

Flinging herself around the corner, Nino stumbling into her back, she immediately halted.

She groaned.

‘Great. Just wonderful. Where the hell did he go?’

 

~

 

‘Good evening, Chat Blanc,’ Hawk Moth sneered, a smirk curling at his lips. The deliciously powerful connection pulsed through his mind, dripping with unfathomable dejected loneliness, the dark murmur of a fractured heart. The boy was pathetically greedy in his desires. Hawk Moth had to admit, however, he was a tad confused by the superhero’s attitude, his character slightly given to inconsistent fluxuations. Hawk Moth mentally tightened his grip. 

‘Tell me, why did you use your cataclysm on that trash bin yesterday? I wasn’t finished with you, yet.’ 

‘ _ She left. I was...angry _ .’ Hawk Moth watched the streets of Paris whiz by as Chat Blanc leapt along the rooftops. It took a good while for their connection to fully develop, and by that time, the cat was already on his way, diving after his Lady. 

‘And why was that?’ Hawk Moth couldn’t help but ask. Every so often, he was forced to dip back into his first akuma of the day, the action slightly jarring. It took him awhile to practice leaping between the two connections, he didn’t think he was up for confronting Ladybug with two of his akumas at the same time yet, but it wouldn’t be long.

According to Nooroo, it wasn’t supposed to be possible, he lacked the particular spell that would enable multiple akumatizations, but, Chat Blanc was a...special case. His little butterfly was only waiting to be woken up, it’s body lying snug in its new habitat, never quite dormant, feeding off the boy’s festering abundance of negative emotions. 

‘ _ It doesn’t matter, I’ll do better next time,’  _ Chat Blanc nearly growled the words. Hawk Moth frowned. He wouldn’t tolerate such insolent disrespect from this particular akuma, no, it had to be  _ extremely  _ clear who was in charge here.

‘You _ will _ do better this time. I want results, I’ve already given you plenty of chances. You’ve been an, insofar, regrettable  _ disappointment  _ to me,’ Hawk Moth grinned at the subtle flinch in the cat’s mind, the sticky, cracked falter. A bit odd  _ that  _ would shake his akuma, but, Hawk Moth was eager to take note. 

And Chat Blanc wouldn’t be getting off that easy.

‘You’ve been weak, Chat Blanc,’ Hawk Moth hissed between clenched teeth, ‘one of my far less exciting or impressionable villains. You want to please me, don’t you?’

‘... _ yes _ ,’ Chat Blanc muttered quietly, to Hawk Moth’s slight surprise.  _ Interesting. _

‘Then you will do more this time. You will do  _ exactly  _ as I say, understand? You don’t want  _ Chat Noir  _ interfering to ruin things, do you?’

‘ _ No.’ _

‘Good. However, I will  _ not  _ tolerate any form of disobedience, Chat Blanc,’ Hawk Moth allowed himself a small, satisfied smile. He had done it. He had a former superhero of Paris under his thumb. Granted, it wasn’t Ladybug, but it would do.

Hawk Moth allowed the dark strands of his mind to surge forward in groping tendrils, ensnaring, digging sharp, hot nails into the boy. He would remind the mangy cat of its place. 

And Hawk Moth swore he’d find a way to make him his. Completely and irrevocably his to control. 

The akumatized hero let out a sharp gasp, as Hawk Moth filled him with white, bubbling pain, scorching flames licking at the softness of his muscles, plucking at every nerve and vein. 

The boy fell from the sky, missing his landing, and he crashed into the street, twitching. 

Hawk Moth slowly relented, retracting from the pathetic cat. Hopefully this would instill a bit of initiative in the useless hero, and remind him of who precisely held the reigns in this arrangement.

He would do whatever it took to get what he needed. 

Perhaps he never really understood what that meant until quite recently.

‘Have I made myself quite clear?’

Chat Blanc struggled to his feet, panting, curling his arms around his torso. A low chuckle rumbled in his throat, and he spat a globule of blood onto the ground, swiping a wrist across his mouth.

‘ _ Yes, Hawk Moth.’ _

 

~

 

‘Bye-bye, little butterfly,’ Ladybug wilted, releasing the newest akuma into the clouds. This akuma had been laughably easy, seemingly constantly distracted, often times completely losing interest in her to simply carry out his own agenda, abruptly turning on his heel to scratch up various vehicles with an oversized key. ‘My car was just detailed, too, why should I be the only one to suffer? Why should I be alone?’ The akuma almost appeared to be genuinely asking her, as he gazed at her with a disturbingly lost expression. Seriously, where did Hawk Moth find these people?

Occasionally, the purple butterfly would glow over his face, but he’d only shrug, gazing at her with empty eyes.

‘Alright, let’s have them, bug lady,’ he’d said, making small grabbing motions for her ears. She didn’t even bother using her lucky charm, cautiously reaching for the key in his hand. He didn’t put up much of a fight.

Odd.

Ladybug cautiously approached the latest akuma victim, as he absently scratched the side of his head, his eyes quickly widening as she approached.

‘L-Ladybug? Geez, I was akumatized? I-I didn’t think I was  _ that  _ angry, sure I was pissed off, but I have insurance, so…’ The man shrugged, before sending her a guilty look.

‘I didn’t hurt anyone, did I?’ He asked softly. Ladybug was swift to give the man a reassuring pat on the shoulder.

‘Of course not, sir. Don’t worry, everything is okay.’

‘I-Is your partner still missing, ma’am?’ The man haltingly inquired, having visibly relaxed at her words. Ladybug bit her lip, her stomach lurching. 

‘I-uh, that is to say-’

‘What, you’ve missed me, m’lady? I haven’t been gone  _ that  _ long.’ Ladybug snapped her head up so fast, something popped in her neck. This was certainly new. He’d never sauntered into plain sight before, eager to make an appearance for the public.

A glance to her left revealed Alya staring, mouthing gaping wide, her phone trembling in her grasp as she held it up to capture the jarring image of Chat Blanc. Beside her, Nino let out an audible pained squeak.

_ Run. Please just run.  _

Ladybug hastily pushed the latest akuma victim behind her, shielding him from view. She didn’t know what kind of game Chat was up for playing today, but she knew she wasn’t going to like it.

‘Unfortunately I’m afraid you’re mistaken,’ she spat, glaring at the living mockery of her former partner, ‘I didn’t miss you, I missed the real Chat.’

Chat Blanc’s head cocked to the side, lilac eyes darting over her figure before landing on a spot behind her shoulder. A garishly lopsided grin split his features, cramming itself into place. 

‘Fine, I’ll make this simple.’

Before Ladybug could so much as flinch, Chat Blanc leapt cleanly over her head, claws outstretched. His legs kicked backwards, slamming into her head, and by the time she managed to scramble to her feet, yo-yo at the ready, her gaze fell to Chat standing over the akuma victim, foot planted firmly on the man’s chest, pressing him into the pavement. The man pawed weakly at Chat’s foot, gasping. Chat shot her a humorless smirk, raising a splayed hand, claws winking in the light of the sun. Ladybug’s heart throbbed in her ears, the world stilling to a halt.

‘Your earrings, or his life,’ Chat snarled, the body of a butterfly illuminating his face in a ghostly, sickening purple hue. She didn’t move. 

Chat shrugged.

‘Alright, then, he’ll be the first I suppose.’

‘The first of what?’ Ladybug felt the words crumble on her tongue, dry, hollow.

‘The first of your victims,’ Chat then leaned forward, his eyes held in a deadened sheen.

_ ‘Cataclysm.’ _

‘ _ No! _ ’

Ladybug reacted on instinct, without room for hesitation. Chat’s hand, black with energy mere inches from the man’s chest, Ladybug flung out her wrist, yo-yo winding tightly around her target, before she gave a ferocious tug, turning, and yanking the string over her shoulder. Behind her. she heard a strangled cry, but she didn’t stop, slamming all her weight forward.

Chat Blanc careened into the street lamp in front of her, hands outstretched to catch himself. The pole disintegrated in a tangled, rusted mess. 

Ladybug barely even registered the action, only tightening her grip, pulling hard. Chat was dragged around to face her, as he buried his claws in the string at his neck. 

His neck.

Ladybug blinked, the blood roaring, thumping in her head, screaming, her breath the clap of thunder. Her knuckles bunched around the cord, refusing to relent, as her vision started to swirl and contract.

Chat’s mouth was open, but nothing came out. Thick, glistening pools swirled in his eyes, trailing out the corners, slipping in twisting rivulets down his cheeks. He knelt in front of her, scratching savagely at his neck, his eyes flickering. Slowly, ever so slowly, she watched as he gradually stopped, his hands stilling around the string, his head bent low, back crumpling forward.

Hands on her shoulders. Around her wrists. She wanted to jerk away from them, wanted to hide.  _ I’m bringing my Chaton back, can’t you see? I’m-I- _

Something caught her around the cheek, a sting spreading across the side of her head. The world abruptly sharpened, clicking into focus, a clot loosening in her ears.

‘Ladybug! Ladybug, let him go,’ Alya’s large, chestnut eyes filled her vision. They were panicked, wide and glassy. The reporter latched onto her jaw with her hands. ‘Ladybug, please, let him go.’ Her voice broke, and Ladybug slowly swept her gaze over her own fingers, the muscles there taught, frozen. 

_ Wait… _

Ladybug felt as her legs gave out underneath her, pure dead weight, limp, boneless. Her grip slackened, her hands falling to her sides.

Nino dove forward, unwrapping the unbreakable cord from her partner’s neck, and the yo-yo sprung back into her hand with a slick, wet squelching sound. 

Ladybug felt the acrid burn of bile encroaching at the back of her throat. She held it back, digging her nails into her stomach. She smothered a sob.

Red. Bright, shiny red, the shade of her newest lipstick, so harshly bright against the white of his suit. It darkened to a gooey sludge around his throat, the flesh torn, a weeping, leaking ring of ground meat. Nino cradled her partner’s head in his arms, his face a frantic, contorted mask of fear. 

Ladybug felt her tongue bump against the back of her teeth, her mouth prying her lips apart. Her lungs forced air into her chest.

‘Lucky charm,’ she croaked, numbly raising a hand, barely registering what the object actually was.

She didn’t care. Whatever she received, she just as quickly sent it spiralling into the heavens, her shoulder moaning at the effort.

‘Miraculous Ladybug,’ she called, the words hollow to her ears. 

The swarm of pink and red stole through the streets, engulfing Chat in a swirling sea. She blinked against the light, praying with the very heart of her soul it would be enough, she could fix this-

The ladybugs quickly escaped, seeping into the ground, dissipating into the air. She felt a rush of warmth.

Her partner, her chaton, didn’t move, and she crawled towards him on quivering knees. Nino quietly gave her room.

‘Chat,’ she choked out, reaching for his unruly main of golden blond hair, fingers catching at the knots, smoothing the locks from his forehead. She tilted his head back.

Thin lines of red and white encircled his neck like chains, burned into his skin, scratches from where he had clawed at his own throat, crowding around the phantom remnants of the grip of her yo-yo. A moan escaped her, struggling to the surface, seeping out of every fiber of her being. 

She hurt him. She hurt her chaton.

‘Chat, I’m so sorry,’ she cried, tilting her head to his own, brushing her nose to his. Her tears splattered onto his face, dotting his skin, and he flinched, eyelids fluttering.

His eyes pierced her, a dagger through her chest, shoved brutally against the bone, crushing her. Watery, clouded lilac. 

For one moment, perhaps the smallest breath of a heartbeat, they were  _ his.  _

Laced with the shadow of adoration, devotion, the crinkle of amusement, a fragment of peace.

But it was all snatched away. Stolen, torn from her, as the silhouette of a butterfly framed his face, cutting him away from her. A glint of panic, and Chat Noir was gone.

A scalding, smoldering sneer overtook his features, tightening his face into a glare. Ladybug felt herself fall away from him, landing hard, her ankles rolling under her. 

Chat Blanc gave her one last long, lingering look, before dashing into an alley, a pale blurr shooting into the shadows.

A fading ghost.

Ladybug watched her partner disappear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thanks for reading!   
> (I also apologize for wounding the cat)

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, I'm sorry if I didn't capture these characters correctly, and that I'm bad at writing, whoops...


End file.
